The Vixen and The Watchman
by Trixter82
Summary: Allan's past comes back to haunt him and Sir Guy is on a fanatic pursuit after The Night Watchman, as two stangers come to Nottingham and change the lifes of everyone. Pairings: RobinMarian, WillDjaq, AllanOC
1. All Things Beautiful

Well, here is my new story! ((There is much rejoycing))

It takes place after A Fool's Game, but can probably be read it seperate from that story. Only the first chapter might be a bit confusing at times.

M-rated for some nasty scenes (violence) and references to s-e-x (sush, let's not say the s-word lol). Just to be safe really.

Disclaimer: Alas Robin is not mine!!! And neither is anything here exept my OC:s, them I own and keep in my pocket. :-p

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Chapter 1. All things beautiful

And so there came a chilly autumn morning, with a light grey fog dancing as fairies over the meadows and trees. The metal in Sir Guy's outfit caused a hollow clinging noise as he made his way down the cold and damp corridors of Nottingham Caste. It pleased him to be accompanied by this grim aura, the intimidating sound of a powerful man at arms. He was a strong and tall man, Sir Guy of Gisbourne, handsome although gloomy and cold in a way that made people cautious when they were near him. He had the face and posture of a man that wouldn't hesitate to kill in cold blood. And in truth, as they came to know him, no one was disappointed or thought themselves mistaken in their first impression. You were wise to be cautious around Sir Guy.

Even though this had always been true, Sir Guy could indeed be ruthless, it was more so now than ever before. He felt haunted still by the events surrounding Lady Marian's near-assassination and Robin Hood's near-capture. He could still not quite understand his own actions. He had defied the sheriff, risking everything as he did so, and he had helped his mortal enemy in escaping from almost certain death. And he had done all that because of a woman who had scorned him, left him by the altar, punched him and made him into the laughing stock of everyone. It was still the talk of the town, whenever he passed people he could hear them whisper and giggle. And what made it all worse was the knowledge that it was Robin Hood that had saved Lady Marian, it was he that got her gratitude and liking. Had not Sir Guy deserved some sort of love from her when he did all this!? And yet her eyes were filled with nothing but awe and resentment when she looked at him.

Sir Guy stopped by the door to the sheriff's quarters to gather himself. The short walk had made his rage bubble up again and he turned to punch his fist into the cold stone wall. It hurt, but that was just as well. Pain worked like nothing else to sooth this anxiety, his pain or the pain of others. He would take it out on the peasants later, or on the prisoners perhaps. Get back on Lady Marian by making her responsible for actions that wouldn't please her. It would be her fault. When he chopped the finger of a peasant boy for not attending church it was in truth she who held the axe in her white hands. Sir Guy took a deep breath and opened the sheriff's door.

"My Lord… Oh I'm sorry, you have company"

As Gisbourne stepped into the dusky room a rather striking woman had turned to face him, cloaked and partly hidden under an emerald-coloured hood. Sir Guy had rarely seen anyone with so many colours - she was painted as the finest birds in Vaysey's cages. Her hair was a giant red mane that lay draped around the rosy face in perfectly arranged curls, her eyes blue as ice and the clothes didn't lack a colour that the rainbow could brag about. Over by the bird cages a smaller woman stood party turned away from him. Her features looked quite similar - the hair was red enough - but in her it all looked plain or even a bit ugly. They must be sisters but nature had not been fair in this family it seemed. While the flaming red head had curves that were accentuated by the colours, her smaller shadow only looked pale and faint. It was as if everything in her had been mixed with water, making it pathetic and feeble.

"Ah Gisbourne!" Vaysey exclaimed "I don't think you have met the Butcher sisters? This lovely woman is Vera Butcher, or perhaps you preferred to be called 'Vix', hm? Over there by the birds is her sister Katie. They have come to take a position in the castle. Vix here is to be out new matron"

"Really?" Sir Guy couldn't hide his surprise. What was the sheriff up to now? This woman could be seen as many things but not a matron.

"Katie is thrown into the offer as well, so they're something of a bargain it seems. We have been a bit short of maids since you get them all pregnant. You really should put a leash on your 'little men' Gisbourne"

The comment caused the woman called Vix to burst into laughter, making Gisbourne clench his jaws in shame. The sheriff degraded him! They all laughed at him as if he was a joke of a man and not the powerful nobleman he set out to be. Then her face split into a radiant smile that would have the sun blushing, and Guy forgot all about his shame. She was indeed striking!

"Well, we don't get easily seduced by little men" she said "If there is to be any seduction taking place I would rather have a bigger man. Don't you agree with me Katie?"

Katie turned her attention to her sister for a moment. She had a very faint smile, so much unlike Vix's that it looked almost ridiculous. The girl seemed distant, watching the room around her as if she was trying to imprint every detail into her memory.

"A woman needs to be safe" she said.

This was a very plain girl, Gisbourne thought, nothing like her sister. Vix spoke as someone that was used to standing up in front of a crowd. Her voice was powerful and had a very pleasant ring to it. Still, her jokes were rude enough for a shabby alehouse, and this was no respectable woman. Sir Guy realised that he was staring at her and turned to the sheriff.

"Sir I have come here in a matter of some importance" he said.

"Really Sir Guy? I'm intrigued, do tell me"

Gisbourne looked at the women, were they to stay in the room? As usual Vaysey didn't take him serious it seemed; he didn't even bother to show the two servants the door. Guy sighed and restrained himself.

"As you know we have had some trouble with this Night Watchman. He is in league with Robin Hood and we can't have it. He stole from me"

"Yes, yes, you said. But that was ages ago, he hasn't bothered us since. Didn't you stab him? The poor bastard is probably seven feet under by now, pushing up the daisies so to speak"

"No he is not. He has been spotted again"

"Really? Well we'll just tell the guards to keep an eye open for masked avengers then. I'm sure they wouldn't notice that if we didn't tell them to"

"But that is not enough Sir!"

Vaysey looked at Sir Guy. He didn't like his tone. It almost sounded a bit rebellious - he was getting way to cocky for the sheriff's taste. Vaysey turned to the Butcher sisters.

"I'm afraid you will have to leave us" he said "men's work"

"But of course my lord, we have so many chores to attend to ourselves"

Vix walked out of the room, her hips moving just a bit to teasing, followed by her sister. It struck Sir Guy that this woman who called herself Vix Butcher must be a whore, and not a cheap one. When they closed the thick wooden door, Vaysey aimed his attention at Gisbourne.

"Charming isn't she?"

"Very my lord. But why is she to work here? Surely she is a prostitute"

"I'm sure she is" the sheriff said, grinning "The fancy kind. You must have heard of Vix Butcher Gisbourne? Hm? The Roxdale Vixen? I have met them before, in London Castle. It wouldn't surprise me if they have spent more time with Price John than the two of us together. You shouldn't underestimate a skilled escort girl"

"But you always say that women are lepers!"

"Well, I don't mind lepers as long as they infect the right people. Now, what is it you want to do with this Night Watchman?"

"I want your permission to hunt him. I want to punish the peasants that help him"

"Ah that same old story is it? Hunting outlaws like game, killing peasants. Don't you ever get bored with it Gisbourne?"

"It is my job Sir!"

"So it is… Well then go do your job. If you want to hunt this watchman then get to it. Have fun"

Gisbourne bowed a bit and Vaysey watched his sergeant leave the room. This would keep Sir Guy quite occupied while he took care of more important matters. The latest reports from the Holy Land were rather alarming. It seemed the war wasn't going to go on forever, and that meant that Prince John had increasingly little time for his coup d'etat. This time must be well spent, Robin Hood was a far to a big a threat to be let roaming free when the king returned. The only problem was that the sheriff was running out of ideas.

And now Vix Butcher had shown up, that woman was always bad news. But she might know Prince John, and the sheriff couldn't risk showing her the door. The prince regent had been a bit displeased with Vaysey lately. He had to make sure Prince John got his money, or he would loose his advantageous position. All in all it was all quite annoying.

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Marian was sweaty and warm even though the night had been cold. It hadn't been an easy choice to take up the night watchman again, but people were still starving and they needed hope. It was more about hope than anything, she thought as she let out her hair. Whatever she did, or whatever Robin or the other outlaws did, the money or the material wellbeing was less important than the fact that someone acted. Marian had realised that trying to imitate Robin was a really bad idea. She was only one woman after all - she didn't have a gang to back her up. Still, she'd been the night watchman for years before Robin came along and that had always gone smooth enough. Knowing your limitations was just a part of growing up, just as making sure you stretched those limitations was a part of being young. She was young, and she was growing, and she was proud to be…

"The night watchman? I thought you burned him to ashes"

Marian turned around and found Robin lurking in the shadows by her bed.

"How long have you been there?" she smiled and crossed the room to give him a kiss.

"Not long. Longer than any sane man would, mind you, but considerably shorter than a real village fool. Darling, I thought the nights were our quality time?"

"You make me sound like a bad woman Robin" Marian laughed.

She put her arms around the outlaw leader's waist and pressed herself close enough to feel his heart pound. Her sweet boy - It seemed almost absurd that she had been willing to trade this for security. He drew a deep shivering breath.

"I'm telling you, there are times that I wish you were"

It was a joke, yet it was true. The time that had passed, the escalating intimacy, had made it apparent to both of them that they would want more and more from each other. It was a problem. Even if they had been married this had to be kept a secret, and with intimacy came the risk of Marian getting knocked up and then where would they be? Thus they pushed this matter into the closet and made it into a joke. She let him chase her and he pretended not to know that she wanted to be cached.

They stood for a while and caressed each other while the first rays of light lit up the room in a bluish shimmer.

"You are sweaty" Robin said finally, leaning his cheek to her head and making her hair into a mess.

"It has been a long night, Lancey is worse of than me I think" she answered referring to her grey steed "The sheriff has been hard on the people by Sodham quarry. Now that the mineral veins are fading he takes it out on the workers. He should just move them to a different area, it's not like he's going to squeeze more iron out of the rocks by starving the miners. He's not particularly practical is he?"

Robin laughed. How he adored this little righteous, clever woman. Marian talked as if her heart could carry all the troubles in the world, he thought. He didn't quite like this night watchman business, yet he knew that it was mainly him being over protective towards his betrothed. Had it been any other man, then he would have admired the effort and treasured the helping hand.

"No the sheriff is not particularly practical" he agreed "I love you"

He gave her a light teasing kiss on the lips, feeling his body grow tense and excited as he did so. She held him back with her hand on his chest as the world started to spin around her. She would not have him kiss away the conversation. She needed to know how he felt about her riding out in the night once again.

"Robin you don't mind it do you?"

"Mind what?" he murmured while giving her ear feather light tugs with his teeth.

Ooooooh no don't do that, she thought as she felt a very pleasant shiver run down her spine. He knew what she liked, and he liked that she liked it, and that made her like it even more. This was way to distracting.

"Mind the night… the night…" she pulled away from him a bit, forcing him to face her "the night watchman"

He smiled, seeming quite intoxicated, with a look in his eyes that Marian found it very hard not to be affected by. Like he craved her, she thought. Damn this situation, he was so beautiful and she had to be the rational one.

"I mind the night watchman being out helping the poor when she should be here feeding my starving heart with tender love" he said, leaning over to give her a deep kiss.

"Robin I am serious!"

Robin sighed and forced himself to put some distance between them, locking his eyes into hers. Then he held her face in his hand - gently stroking the appetizing red lips with his thumb - as he talked.

"So am I" he said with his softest voice "I do mind that I can't be with you, for whatever reason. I also mind that you could get hurt, and truth to be told I'm not really into masks. It's all a bit to cunning for my taste. But I'm also so proud of you. I can't believe how bold you are, how sweet. Just be careful will you? Don't get yourself killed again"

Marian smiled. He actually supported her, so perhaps he had grown into a man finally. And what a man, none the less! She felt her body grow weak, giving in to his tender gaze.

"Give me a kiss then" she said "Or am I too sweaty for you?"

He served her a mischievous smile, drew her close and then pushed her back to the wall to make it impossible for her to escape. He would look dishevelled when he came back to the camp, his hair in a mess and the clothes untidy. Allan would make fun of him but he could take that. He moaned a bit when he felt her nails against his neck, lacing her fingers into his hair. She was very bad at restricting him, he thought, and cursed her a bit for being so irresistible. Then he lifted her up and threw her down on to the bed.

"You need to rest" he said, curling up beside her "I will stay until you fall asleep. You are so pretty when you snore"

"I do not snore!"

He laughed ad gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Yeah you do"

He looked down at her chest - the pale skin over her collar bones heaved and shivered slightly - and saw a thin gold chain that had slipped out of its hiding place under her clothes. There was a ring on it, their ring. She wore it as he had done in the holy land, hidden from the world but close at heart. It made him so happy to see it there, an irrational joy that made him dizzy and sentimental. He felt as if it really meant something, it was as if this was more than just a simple symbol. It bound them together - this made the amazing fairy tale real to him. So many failed battles and now this one victory that made everything else fade in comparison. He might as well walk over fire; his feet couldn't burn anymore. She made him feel invincible.

Marian was fast asleep and Robin stayed by her side, watching her features go soft as she disappeared into a dreamless slumber. What if Gisbourne knew what he did? That the night watchman was Lady Marian Fitzwalter, and that she slept so serenely by the side of his mortal enemy. This would be Sir Guy's worst nightmare, Robin thought as he got ready to escape Knighton Hall before the servants got up. He really wouldn't like this at all. But Robin did, and the love struck outlaw couldn't stop smiling as he made his way back to the camp in the chilly autumn morning.

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Allan pushed his way through the crowd in Nottingham Market, hidden under a brown cloak and keeping close to the houses. It was early in the morning and the guards was just about to change shift, the tired night guards giving way to still a bit sleepy morning guards. This was the best time to go about business in Nottingham, and they had come there to distribute some of their 'acquired wealth', as Robin called it. Not that Robin had come into town with them, he was a bit to well known to risk it. Allan leaned on a booth belonging to some Clum farmers when Will and Djaq came up behind him, laughing and joking around with each other.

"Allan" Will said "We have finished our stuff. Maybe now we could get some food"

"You sound just like Much" Djaq teased him "You better be careful, you don't want to be a fat outlaw do you? You would lose all credibility"

"Shut up Djaq" Will smiled.

Allan studied the two young outlaws. This was just too good to be true.

"Oy leave your love quarrels to your alone time" he said "We'll buy some bread and cheese. Support the local economy, yeah? Come on lovebirds"

He glanced over at Will to see his reaction, and found the young man's face turning into a brighter shade of pink. 'We didn't… we're not…' he mumbled as he passed Allan.

"Sure you're not mate" Allan said and gave Will a thump on the back as he followed him out into the masses of people doing their weekly shopping.

It was a pitiful market. The booths were half-empty due to the fact that hardly anyone had money to spare, and under the grey fog Nottingham town square seemed gloomier than ever.

"Even the salted fish in the fish merchant's barrels will turn bad long before it's sold out!" Will exclaimed irritated. He was a practical young man and didn't like it when things went to waste.

"Yeah well…" Allan started, thinking about a way to improve Will's mood.

"… There will be better times" Djaq interrupted him, looking quite protective towards her friend.

Allan looked around. The world was grey and soaking wet, the damp chilly air heavy to breathe. If there had ever been an eerier morning in Nottingham he had yet to see it. Perhaps that was why he though that she was a ghost when he first saw her, crossing the market place with a basket full of food dangling from her thin arms. She looked ghostly enough, small and faint as a fairy with the reddish hair tucked up under a piece of cloth. Her clothes were blue and green, far too bright and big for her.

"_You shouldn't wear your sister's clothes Katie"_

"_She is kind to give them to me"_

"_She would be kinder to give you clothes of your own that fit you"_

The memories came over Allan, striking down as lightning bolts. He saw her as he'd seen her so many times, crossing marketplaces, crossing rooms, lingering in corners, sitting by his side… This was a ghost, a shadow from the past that he'd long put behind him, and yet she was here. How could this be!?

"Allan? You know that woman?"

Djaq's words made Allan twitch, pushing him out of the odd trance that trapped him.

"Katie Butcher" he said, unable to hide his surprise. Surely it couldn't be her!

"What the plain girl?" Will asked "With the odd clothes?"

The comment made Allan come to his senses, realising he had to get his act together.

"Not that plain" he answered "The clothes are odd but you should see them on her sister. If Katie Butcher is here, then so is Vix Butcher and that is just bad news for everyone"

"Really?"

"Yeah, trust me on this one… We better get back to the camp…"

'Before she sees me' Allan silently added in his head. Vix Butcher would indeed be bad news for everyone, but to him Katie Butcher might be worse news still. He really hadn't expected to see her again...

"Wow" Will burst out suddenly "Is that Vix? She's amazing!"

Allan looked over to the fruit booth and found Katie joined by her sister. Well then it must be Katie, he thought, and if Will can see them then they can't merely be ghosts.

"Yeah that will be her alright" he answered.

"Allan who are they? Why do you know them!?"

Djaq had a very annoyed expression in her dark eyes, watching Will as he gazed over at Vix Butcher.

"The Butcher sisters…" Allan said, trying to explain the situation "They are… Just people I used to know - in the bad old days. They come from Roxdale, or we met in Roxdale. God only knows where they come from, somewhere at the world's end I reckon"

"They are really sisters?" Will inquired "Because it's odd isn't it. I mean she is so… plain… and then she is so… beautiful"

"Listen, she is not that plain" Allan exclaimed before he could stop himself.

"And she is not that pretty!" Djaq added "She dresses like a whore and her hair is too red don't you think?"

Allan gathered himself, this situation was spinning out of control and why did he still defend Katie like this?

"No Djaq is really much prettier Will, you better tell her that. Women don't like Vix, trust me on this one"

"Alright I'm sorry… Don't shout at me" Will said "She is sort of plain and then she is rather good looking, better like that? You are pretty too Djaq"

Djaq gave him a rather sour look.

"Don't make fun of me Will"

"I'm not! You're pretty! You are!"

"But not like her…"

"Djaq you don't want to go there" Allan interrupted her "Trust me"

Women always behaved odd around Vix, he remembered, and men behaved even worse. She was the kind of woman who used her charms to make men do whatever she wanted. And she was way too good at it.

It seemed that they lingered too long by that booth, watching the odd sisters, because all of a sudden Katie Butcher turned around and looked straight into Allan's eyes. That gaze felt all too familiar, for a second their eyes locked into each other in mutual recognition.

"_Hello, who are you?"_

"_Allan- a-Dale they call me. You're Vix's sister, I've herd of you"_

"_I'm Katie"_

"_Katie… That's a nice name. Don't you ever smile Katie?"_

_She gave him a faint smile, so vague it was barely more than a shadow. _

"_No" she said, and showed him in._

Allan shook his head, forcing himself out of memory lane once again.

"We must go" he said "Come"

The three outlaws made their way back to the camp in different kinds of silence. Will felt amazed and enchanted by Vix Butcher, Djaq was shocked and irritated by her own irrational jealousy and Allan's head buzzed by the sound of a thousand memories that came back to haunt him. Thus started the day that the Roxdale Vixen and her ghost-sister had made their way into Sherwood Forest, and they were not about to leave it any time soon.

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((drumroll)) End of chapter one, ladies and gents, but be not saddened- there is more to come! Please comment, exept if you hated it, then just sod off why don't you :-p 

LOVE/ Trix


	2. A Dire Fate Draws Near

Well this is chapter two in this story. It might make you might make you hate Allan or feel terrible sorry for him...

I have changed the rating on this story to T, but it might be rechanged again later on, to M. ;-p

Thanx fore the comments/hugs/

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2. A Dire Fate Draws Near

"Brother I'm tired" Abbot Thomas exclaimed as he made his way into his dusky quarters in Knittle Monestary of the Holy Ghost. He was an elderly man of the cloth – the slightly egg-shaped head was naturally stripped of all hair apart for some sad grey locks on the sides, and didn't need any shaving. Abbot Thomas often spoke of the silent dignity of ageing to his younger brothers, but when the air was damp and chilly and the days longer than daylight he could feel his joints scream in agony.

It had been a difficult day. Sir Edward of Knighton, the monastery's patron for years back, had discretely asked them to expand the area that the brothers worked in. Now they helped people as far away as Clum or Merton, and it made the working days long. Abbot Thomas was weary of the pain and suffering he encountered on a daily basis, and increasingly frustrated that he couldn't do more for God's children.

However this day had one more chore that had to be attended to. It would soon be dark outside, and by then the basket full of food and medical herbs that he had personally prepared had to be safe in the woodshed. This was really Abbot Thomas personal crusade, just a little something that he'd stumbled over a couple of years ago. A helping hand that came and went as a ghost in the darkness, signalling to him by putting up a piece of linen cloth on one of the apple trees. When the cloth was up it meant that the helper needed supplies, and for some reason the cloth was always up in the best of times. It was as if the helper knew perfectly when the monastery had supplies to give, and when it was better to lay low.

The abbot stretched down to pick up the basket, but immediately felt a sharp pain in his back as he did so. This damned lumbago - it always seemed to be turning up in the worst of times! He moaned and made his way over to the bed - it wouldn't help much but one could always wish for the best – and called out for help. After a while the door opened and a pale young monk came in. Abbot Thomas tried not to sigh, he had hoped on any other brother than this one.

"Father Abbot" the young friar mumbled "What's up, you're okay?"

"My damned back that is all! Listen Alistair, there is something you have to do for me"

The brother called Alistair looked like he tried to sink through the floor – his body moaning out a sulking "No, do I have to?!" that his voice wasn't allowed to speak out loud.

"What's it about then?" he said.

"Look over there on the floor. There is a basket intended for charity, and I want you to take it down to the woodshed by forest's edge. Just put it in there - then walk away. Someone will come for it"

Brother Alistair looked a bit puzzled, but decided not to ask any questions and went to do as he was told. He was a thin and tall young man, rather shabby-looking for a monk and completely lacking any religious conviction. He was one of plenty young men that had been sent to take up the cloth by a worried father with to many sons - called there by force and economy rather than by God himself. Alistair would rather spend his days with women gambling and alcohol, but he'd never been given a choice.

Alistair made his way out into the annoyingly big garden, crossing the rows of apple trees and half-wild hens that lay the eggs wherever they wanted to and made the brothers go looking for them in the early morning hours. He hated hens. He hated apples. He hated this monastery and that old slave driver of an abbot. When he came to the woodshed he sat down on the damp soil and started to go through the basket. It was mainly food it seemed, some herbs and a small pouch with coins. He took the coins and laid everything else back before he went up to the monastery again. When he came to the stables he stopped and hesitated for a while. It wasn't all that late just yet - he would have time to sneak out into Nottingham and gamble away some of his troubles over a pint. After a moments thought he took out an old mare and started to lead her away from the main building as quietly as he could.

When he came close to the woodshed he halted himself, suddenly feeling a curiosity that was slightly stronger that the wish to get away as fast as possible. Alistair tied the horse to an apple tree and crouched down to wait for whoever was coming for the basket. He wouldn't wait long, but it seemed that he was in luck. After a short time in hiding he saw someone walk up to the shed, barely visible in the dusk evening light. Then to Alistair's bliss the person lighted a lantern to find the supplies in the dark, and the sight made him gasp for air so loud that the stranger turned to him. He stared into the darkness for a couple of seconds and gave the young monk a perfect picture of what he was looking at. The person before him was completely hidden under a mask and shrouded in a dark cloak – there was absolutely no doubt that this was the lawless Night Watchman, peasant friend and enemy of the state.

Brother Alistair sat for a while and watched the rebel walk away with the supplies, trying to understand what this all meant. Then he shrugged his shoulders and decided that it the matter drained too much energy from him. Under the cloak of darkness the young friar let the mare carry him away to the Nottingham decadence that he craved so badly.

---

It was almost pitch-black outside when Djaq and Allan arrived at 'Salty Boar Tavern' in the outskirts of Nottingham town. The rather shabby alehouse was situated in a dark alley - squeezed in between two larger houses that looked like they were trying to suffocate it. It was a well-known home to drunks and petty thieves – the Nottingham trash – admittedly not the most trustworthy of people under normal circumstances. But there was a mutual feeling of 'I don't tell so you don't tell' in Salty Boar, and that was comforting for everyone not entirely on good terms with the law. The last days had been trying for the two outlaws. Allan wished he could have gone on pretending that there was no such thing as the Butcher sisters. Yet there were, and Djaq felt sick of listening to Will speaking about nothing but the wild beauty of Vix. So in the calm of the evening they had taken this opportunity to get away from the other outlaws in the camp. To be honest, Much's cooking was considerably better than the one at Salty Boar, but that was a low price to pay for peace of mind.

"You don't like Vix" Djaq said as they sat down by a table in the darkest corner "But you do like Katie don't you?"

"Like…" Allan chuckled a little "You don't like the butcher sisters. You are taken with them. And Will is just a bit taken with Vix too, mind you. He doesn't really like her"

Djaq looked so uncomfortable at the mentioning of Will's infatuation that Allan immediately felt bad for taking it up. It would be better that he told her about Katie, he thought, eventually the truth had a way of getting out of the closet anyway. An experienced liar as Allan knew that lies fall apart if you linger by their side, and there was no way of running away from anything here.

"The thing is we had a… fling, right? Katie and me"

Allan leaned his back against the slightly damp chalk- and turf wall - the light from the candle made shadows dance over his features like restless spirits. Djaq thought he looked bothered in a way that you rarely saw Allan a Dale, haunted by a ghost from times that passed.

"A love story?" she asked.

"I guess you could call it that, yeah…" Allan got a distant look in his face, smiling faintly and his eyes lost beyond this world "... Yeah"

"Tell me"

"I wouldn't know where to start…"

He seemed to force himself from the memories, a rude awakening into reality: The smoky tavern where they shared a meal, Djaq's face under the cloak, the pint of ale on the small wooden table.

"The beginning perhaps. It's usually a good place"

"The beginning… The thing is that young Allan weren't a particularly… good person" Allan said, a sarcastic grin on his face "He stole… for personal gain, lied… got into drunken fights. Spent most of his time in alehouses and shabby taverns he did. Well, much like this one actually. But he wasn't evil, just bad"

Allan smirked as he talked - young Allan was not a person he would have chosen to spend any time with in this day and age. People often have a kind of nostalgic indulgence towards the person she used to be, and now Allan thought back at his young self as a naïve child who made mistakes by the dozen. There was little pride in his reminiscence, but at the same time he didn't feel guilty over crimes that took place in such a different time.

"And young Katie Butcher?" Djaq inquired to spur him on "Was she a nice girl?"

"No, no…" Allan laughed "No the Butcher gals have never been nice girls. They would sell anything for money, their hearts and bodies…"

"They were whores!"

"Well, yeah kind of. At times, it came and went. They were all about fraud, deception and theatre the two of them. They would stab you in the back people said"

"Both of them?" Djaq asked a bit puzzled "I can believe that about Vix, but was Katie just as bad? She looked… harmless"

Allan sighed, a bit reluctant to talk about this as it seemed - perhaps these matters were to close at heart for him. Djaq studied his face across the table - the smile that he put on to shield himself. He always carried this mask, she thought.

"Well Vix was…" he said "When I met them, Vix was… amazing. She was radiant and spiritual and breathtaking. A beautiful wild vixen, she made all men go crazy. It was quite enchanting I tell you. I guess she is all those things still"

"Will sure seems to think so" Djaq interposed, suddenly feeling a pang of irrational jealousy.

How could anyone compete with that red headed woman, she used her body as a trap and they all went into it so willingly. And why would Djaq want to compete with that anyway? Her head didn't make any sense. Allan saw that his friend felt uncomfortable again, and tried to reassure her.

"Will is young" he said "As I was young all those years ago. Anyway, we all loved her. And then she had this sister, Katie. She was like a shadow, Katie, didn't say much. She never laughed; all you ever got from her was a faint smile. Vix always laughed, sang and danced all over the place. I think I felt sorry for the mysterious Katie Butcher - no one ever seemed to notice her. So I set out as my mission to make her laugh, right? And I'm telling you, it was no trifle. All you ever get is these faint smiles with her. Until she trusts you that is"

"And did you make her trust you Allan a Dale?" Djaq asked, feeling a bit taken by this story and the sight of Allan with his heart on display.

"Yeah well, eventually. Not until after I had fallen in love with her though. I was in a little… accident with her sister. Katie wasn't the reason that I hung around their home. I wanted Vix as much as every man did. I'm sorry Djaq, but it is true that Vix twist the heads of young men. So I sung her ballads, well drinking songs actually, and brought her presents - in form of stolen goods. It was all very romantic. And she played along, Vix always does. Men are nothing more that potential assets to her, someone you can use and manipulate. So she led me on, made me think there was such a thing as 'Allan and Vix'. Anyway, this one day I found her with another bloke. I guess I should have expected it with her being a prostitute from time to time, but I ended up rushing out of there all heartbroken. Say what you want about young Allan but he did believe in love"

"Poor young Allan"

"Yeah poor young Allan" Allan laughed "So anyway, Katie followed me right? She did it in this discrete way… 'Allan' she said…"

"_Allan"_

_He turned around and twitched as he saw Katie behind him in the alley. She had followed him there?_

"_She does that Allan. She hurts. It's what she does. She's just being Vix. Don't be mad"_

_She looked so small and bothered, and yet she was more present than he'd ever seen her. It spurred his interest, this mystery of a woman. The anger and sorrow gave away just a bit, making room for the kind of tender curiosity that he'd come to associate with Katie Butcher. Why had she followed him? _

_As if she had read his thoughts Katie turned to leave him, making ready go back to the chaotic life she led with her sister. Maybe she would pick up a customer and bring him home with her. Allan didn't quite like the thought of that - strange men touching this odd, rather detached girl for coins. She wasn't born to lead a life like that, such a degrading and humiliating existence. _

"_Katie don't leave, come we'll take an ale. I'll make you laugh" he said to halt her._

_She gave him a faint smile and gave in to his wish. She always gave in to people's wishes. Except that she just wouldn't laugh. _

"'Allan' she said?"

Djaq's words forced Allan out of the memory. His face was red from the heat in the tavern and his eyes sparkled from tears or emotion. As a man who remembers something with tenderness, Djaq thought, something lovely but lost.

"Yes, well, anyway" he continued his story, his voice trembling just a little bit "She followed to tell me that her sister always treated people like that, and I shouldn't be mad. So we sat up all night and drank and talked. Well, I did most of the talking… And after that I was completely… obsessed with her. I guess I courted her. Though how do you court a prostitute, whose sister you have already tried all the tricks on none the less? It wasn't easy mind you"

"But you did it? And you made the girl laugh at you" Djaq smiled.

"Well, she gave in to me easily. She lets other people make decisions, Katie just follows. She followed me into some sort of relationship, I asked if I could have her and she shrugged her shoulders and gave in. Basically. The laugher was another matter entirely though. But yeah, I did it… I made Katie Butcher laugh… "

_He'd stolen the hen from one of the farms that lay close to town. They had many and he had none, so it made sense to take it. It was a chestnut coloured and rather fat bird, with a red silk ribbon around the soft belly. She would like it - they could kill it and make it into a stew even. _

_He held the bird tight in his arms as he came to her in the kitchen where she was baking bread. She turned around and twitched when she saw him, her arms white with flour. _

"_Allan what is that!?"_

"_A hen. It's for you darling - look it got a ribbon n' all."_

"_But what should I do with it?!" Katie said, puzzled and confused by this odd gift. _

"_Well she can give us eggs. Or you can cook her into… something. I call her Chuckles"_

"_But Allan, you can't name food like that. It's horrible" _

_She stepped up to him to take the bird, shaking her small head at his foolishness. As he reached the bird to her, leaning over to steal a kiss as he did so, the animal suddenly started to flap its wings in wild panic. Chuckles escaped from Allan's grip as if it had been greased with oil, flying around the kitchen and turning it upside down._

"_Allan! Catch it catch it!" _

_They ran around the room, throwing themselves after the increasingly cocky Chuckles – the bird seemed to merely be playing with them - knocking over pots and pans. Finally Allan leaped at the hen as it made its way to the door, but the table was in the way and he lost balance. He tumbled down over Katie, pulling the bowl of flour with him in the fall. In a white cloud of powder they saw the red silk ribbon disappear out into the town with a victorious 'chuck-chuck'. _

_They looked at each other under the flour, coughing and sneezing and blinking to escape it. It got in everywhere, under the clothes and inside the nostrils. She even had flour on her eyelashes, and she buried her face in her palms trying to rub it out, shaking and twitching. It was so funny he didn't even realise that she was laughing too until she gasped for air and tried to talk._

"_Allan…" she sniggered, her voice sounding quite out of breath." Allan this is so not even funny!" _

_And how she laughed, her plain face was completely transformed by a beaming smile. Her eyes sparkled under the layers of white flour. It made her almost breathtakingly beautiful. This was the most wonderful laughter Allan had ever heard, and it made it impossible not to love her. She was irresistible and he felt like the happiest man in the world._

"And then what?"

Allan twitched at Djaq's words, thinking they were a bit ruthless waking him from such pleasant thoughts. These memories were so wonderful when you were lost in them - and so very painful when you weren't.

"Well, as I said we had this fling" he continued his story "And I think she started to trust me. She started to laugh at my jokes, and she gave me looks across the room when something amused her. Those faint smiled weren't just faint smiles, her eyes sparkled. Just to me, she opened up to me. They all think she's so plain, but you haven't seen her right? You don't know her as I did"

Djaq smiled at Allan, he looked so emotional. Did he still harbour tender feeling towards this girl or was it just nostalgia talking?

"It sounds like a fairy tale Allan. Why did it end" she said "You didn't want to marry a whore?"

"No, no never mind that. We weren't good people, not me nor she aright? Don't call her a… prostitute like that Djaq, as I said that was… from time to time. When it was me and her she didn't do that. No it was…. Well it was Vix actually. She messed it all up"

"She didn't want you to marry?" Djaq asked, shaking her head in confusion. This world that Allan spoke of, these people, were from a very different place than she. This was an England that she didn't know.

"I'm sure she didn't. But mainly I just think she doesn't like the idea of her sister having anything that she doesn't, right? She wants it all, Vix. And now she wanted me. The thing is that what Vix wants, Vix gets. It's not even funny… but it's true"

"You chose Vix over Katie!? But why?"

Allan shrugged his shoulders.

"Aright what can I say? I was a boy, my hormones went hey wild. My body wanted and my mind followed. I was such a bastard… Anyway I didn't actually choose Vix. I guess Young Allan wanted it all as well. Vix and I shared a couple of… tender moments"

"And Katie found out?"

"Katie found out, yeah"

"And then she threw you out. It was over"

Djaq scrutinized Allan's face for any sign of the pain that his words spoke of. His voice trembled a little, she thought, and he had a veil of sorrow as a shadow over his face. Nothing obvious and but he didn't try to smile as he talked any more. He sounded a bit angry with himself she thought. Allan might not have any guilt over the deeds of young Allan, but this was something that haunted him.

"No not really" he said "I told you that Katie doesn't do much, she just follows. She stopped laughing and smiling, lost her sparkle and went back into the shadows. She didn't accuse me of anything, just sort of faded from me. God how I regretted it… It was all so bloody stupid!"

"Then why? Why are you not together? You left her?"

"Eventually I did, but not until… I found her… With a man"

Allan wouldn't say more than that to Djaq, this was the part of the story that he couldn't tell her. This was his darkest moment, a nightmare that still held questions the years had failed to find an answer to. He couldn't let this monster out of the cave - yet it showed its ugly head already.

"_Allan you must help me" Katie said, her voice strangely detached "We can take his money, there were some coins. It will get us to a new town. You must help me fix this…"_

"Allan you left her for finding her with a man! That is so typical! And you slept with her sister… Men!"

Djaq looked upset - her eyes big and accusing in a way that made Allan think that this wasn't the only thing that tortured her. Not just young Allan's crimes - it was the crimes of all men. The crimes men committed towards women. The crimes that men had committed towards her.

"Yeah well Young Allan wasn't a good person, I told you" Allan said, eager to finish this conversation, make this memory disappear. Leave me be, he pleaded, go back to the old battlefields, be buried and forgotten…

"…_You must help me fix this…"_

Leave me be!!! Allan shook his head, violently as if it would make the voices disappear and the pictures fade. This walk down memory lane felt like a thousand needles.

"I'm a bastard that's all. End of story, just leave it alright!"

"You're not telling me everything are you?" Djaq inquired. She was so persistent, she spurred the memories on.

"I am!" he called out, a sudden outburst of anger that made the Saracen girl flinch "I mean, the rest is just history. I can't, I'm sorry…"

"… _help me…"_

"… Djaq I can't tell you more! It's not important. You don't trust the butcher sisters, that is all you need to know"

Allan leaned over his plate with bread and sausage with a face that was closed for all further conversation. Djaq watched him - this merry outlaw bent down in worries from a distant time - and wondered what it was he felt he needed to keep from her. Something worse than being a bad man, something worse than having affairs with bad women, something worse than cheating on your love with her sister, something so bad he couldn't tell her about it. He said this wasn't important, but Djaq had a feeling that it was one of the most significant mile stones in the life of Allan a Dale. And it was a mile stone that he didn't like at all.

"OY! You pay up, or you pay in flesh! We don't have any benefices for clergy here!"

The sudden raised voice from the other side of the tavern made Allan and Djaq turn their interest to the scene that was playing - it was a welcome distraction in the tense silence between them. A rather shabby-looking young monk crouched down by a table with gambling markers - protecting himself from the words with a horrified expression in his face and a wooden cross raised in his shaking hands.

"I'm just a man of the cloth" he tried in an attempt to talk his way out of the situation. Apparently he'd gotten himself into some sort of gambling debts; odd considering a monk shouldn't have any personal possessions. But then again, this was a home for the Nottingham trash, and even churchmen fell from grace now and again.

"See, this is what I like about the Salty Boar" Allan smiled "It never gets boring"

"Should we help him perhaps?"

"Nah we can't help people with gambling debts, we'd loose all credibility"

Djaq smirked and nodded in agreement. Sometimes fate works in very odd ways, and in this moment lady Fortuna must have been standing by their side and laughed at her own cruelty. The wise choice not to help a young monk in his self-inflicted misfortunes started a chain of events that would spiral everyone involved into a dire vortex – proving very difficult to escape.

The wind played a sad requiem over the streets and roofs of Nottingham as a drunk and desperate monk made his way trough the town in search for a way out of his personal hell.

---

"Ehm are you Sir Guy of Gisbourne, the sheriff's master of arms and lord of… lord of… Locksley?"

Sir Guy turned around - an annoyed expression in his grim face - only to see pathetic monk in the castle yard. He didn't have time for this - he was late as it was. In truth the wonderful Vix would be waiting for him by now with a bath in his temporary quarters in the castle. His working day was over and he would rather spend time with a lovely and rather dirty woman than an awful and very dirty friar.

"What?" he hissed "I don't have all night"

"Yer well it's just that I've herd about a reward" The monk looked nervous but somehow he managed to talk as if he was just about to fall asleep anyway. He probably always talked like that, Sir Guy thought with disgust written all over his face.

"Yes you would, wouldn't you? You people of the cloth set out to play all pious and righteous, yet you aren't purer than the next man. What do you have for me?"

"Well could we talk about the pay, the money first?"

"We talk about the money after!" Sir Guy clenched his teeth and took a threatening step towards the young man "What – do – you – know?!"

"Um, okay your way is better I agree" the friar backed away a bit and took his wooden cross in his hand "My name is Brother Alistair of the Knittle monastery, and I have seen the Night Watchman…"

* * *

There you go. Robin and Marian is in the next chapter in case you missed them in this one hehe.

Plz comment! Love /Trix


	3. The price of getting what you want

Right people, this chapter is long but I like it. ;-)

Thanx for all the comments! They make me so happy :-D

* * *

3: The prize of getting what you want

The Knittle Monastery wasn't a particularly big one, but Sir Guy was a man who liked to make an impact. Thus he had made sure that he had twelve guards with him - fully armed and mounted – as he made his way towards the friars in the brisk Thursday morning.

"We will teach these holy men obedience Garth" Sir Guy said to the sergeant that rode by his side in silent dignity "We wear chain mail and they wear cloth. It will be easy - no God can save them now. Not on earth and heaven can wait"

"What is the plan My Lord?" Garth hid the resentment he felt for his master's gruesome smirk – he took orders and executed them without guilt, this was his job and he did it well.

"We take them to Nottingham. This monastery is closed as far as I'm concerned"

Sir Guy felt an excitement over this day that he had lacked during the last coupe of weeks; his anxiousness was subdued and under control. He feared God as much as the next man but this monastery was rotting from the inside. The friars were corrupt and unholy - helping outlaws while they played all pious and looked down on men that they considered stood further from God. This moral that they tried to impose on everyone was simply a charade, a reason to behave as gods themselves. It made Sir Guy smile to think that they were to fall, that their cross was nothing to his sword, their prayers nothing to his orders. Would God not want men to obey the laws of the lands? Surely these false friars weren't any holier in the eyes of God than a simple poacher.

"This monastery is under the patronage of Sir Edward and Lady Marian" Gisbourne said, still smiling "It's a pity that their protégées have fallen victims to the temptations of the devil. This will upset them greatly"

"Yes Sir"

The friars were all outside when Sir Guy arrived with his guards - the life in a monastery was strictly divided by prayers and chores and this was a time for physical labour. The garden was lit by a faint autumn light that made the colours look deep and rich, as if Mother Nature had enough of sun and play and decided to give away the rest of her generous riches before the winter came. Now the brothers picked up the apples that had fallen from the trees, collecting them on linen blankets that were stretched onto the grass, and joked with each other as old friends do. There was harmony and love in this picturesque scene of pious family life - the kind of love that Gisbourne himself never seemed to be able to feel. It was always out of reach, his heart was to cold and detached. Yet he could break this paradise with a wink of his hand - Sir Guy could not acquire but he could destroy.

The friars fell silent when they saw the mounted guards closing in on them- breaking into the serenity with the sound of clenching iron. The war horses' hooves sunk heavy into the soft earth, throwing up turfs of grass and leaving the lawn looking scarred and wounded.

"Who is the Abbot of this monastery?" Sir Guy exclaimed, spitting out the words in his usual way.

An elderly man rose from his crouching position with some effort.

"I am Abbot Thomas. What is your business here Sir Guy? This garden and these men belong to God"

"Abbot Thomas, well, well" Sir Guy let out a small chuckle "This garden may belong to God, but from this day he can consider this monastery closed and these pitiful friars under arrest"

"What! You will do no such thing"

Gisbourne took a deep breath in a sarcastic impression of regret before he sighed "Am I to understand that you wish to resist this arrest?"

"Yes! We answer only to God!"

"Well then…" Sir Guy dismounted and went up to the abbot "It is unfortunate, but then we have no choice but to make you come with us with any means necessary" He looked down on the shorter man and smirked as he threw out his hand, hitting the elderly abbot across the face with such force that the man fell to the ground. It is true that once upon a time- before humankind saw the light of day- apes started smiling to prove them subdued, but Sir Guy's smile was far from that. He liked this, enjoyed it, felt invigorated and empowered by the situation. Now he turned to his men with an alarming smirk on his lips as a threat, or rather a promise, for cruelty.

"Take them. All of them" he ordered. He took a step over the fallen abbot to pick up an apple from one of the linen blankets, then turned around and poked the man with his foot as if this old body was to disgusting to touch. Abbot Thomas moaned a bit and made an effort to rise from his degrading position.

"Will you at least tell us what crime we have committed?!" he yelled, struggling to gain some authority.

"You have committed too many to know witch one I am accusing you of?" Sir Guy still smiled and watched the scene before him - the helpless brothers of the cloth that were collected as cattle and bound with thick ropes that would cut into their skin. "You helped the Night Watchman- it is an infamous outlaw that you chose to put your loyalty with"

Gisbourne took a bite from the apple, then spit it out and threw the fruit away.

"This apple is sour" he hissed to Abbot Thomas with a disgusted expression in his face "Cut down the trees! This garden of Eden had been tainted by fraud"

He turned around to walk back to his horse and sat up on the black steed to watch the rest of the arrest from above. Marian would no doubt be distressed when she found out about this. Abbot Thomas had been her teacher once upon a time– Edward had wanted his daughter to have a man's education- and in these desperate days she took a great interest in the charity work of the friars. Sir Guy couldn't help to think that this was what pleased him the most; the knowledge that Marian would suffer from the events. It made it personal, a way to get back at her and win a sweet victory that lessened his shame. The triumph made him feel big, his confidence swollen and bloated in the very best of ways.

---

Every moment they spent together was stolen time, time that had been intended for other purposes- more in line with the lives they led. Yet this stolen fruit was as sweet as any nectar, and as the days went they moved closer to each others, shy as new lovers and not the old friends that they set out to be. It was odd to them how familiar and natural these stolen minutes felt, only to be thrown away a moment later by something that felt new and rousing. A couple is something that two people grow into, trust and security is won over time. Robin had not known how much he had craved this intimacy.

"I have to go home" Marian's voice was muffled by kisses as she snuggled closer to Robin under the ceiling of still primarily green beech leaves in Sherwood Forest "My father is waiting"

A human has so many faces, so many sides and angles. Robin was used to let Marian's presence enchant him in candlelight, a sweet secret cloaked in darkness. Now he found her so captivating in daylight too- the sun illuminating her warm features as she spoke – and he wished he could have every part this woman. He nodded a bit reluctant to her, then grabbed her hand and started walking down to the camp- braiding his fingers into hers in a way that made it difficult to escape. Their lives were braided into each other's in much the same way, he thought in a rather sentimental way, intertwined as the fibres in a rope. Marian turned to him with a smile as if she could sense that he was thinking about her, making his heart leap at her gaze. This was a rather foolish way for a warrior to behave, smiling for no reason and laughing for less, but then again he deserved this, needed it, craved it- and it always left him wanting for more.

Robin knew that something was wrong as soon as they arrived at the camp site. The outlaws stood around the fireplace, shattered and silent– an air of seriousness lay over them as a fog, impossible not to be affected by. The joy from the forest stroll with his sweetheart faded from him in an instant. This would be bad.

"What has happened?" he inquired.

"I'm not sure Marian should hear this" Much gained a few irritated looks from the other outlaws "I mean… It's just… Well she won't like it"

Marian took a step closer to Robin- feeling rather comforted by the heat that emanated from his body- and he put his arms around her waist to draw her in tight to his body. This would indeed be bad, and if Much didn't want Marian to know then it would be even worse. He could see it written all over their faces, the fear of revealing the news that they carried.

"What has happened?" he insisted "Will? Allan?"

"If his concerns me then I'm not going anywhere" Marian added.

Will seemed to make a quick evaluation of the situation before he gave in to the request.

"It's the monastery in Knittle" he said "It has been closed down"

Robin could feel Marian's body grow tense and he tightened his grip to calm her.

"Closed down?!" she exclaimed "It can't be! Why? What has happened to the friars! Abbot Thomas…"

"Ah well that's the bad part" Much interposed. He realised a bit too late that he might be wiser not to speak, meaning well might explain his rash words but hardly excused them "I mean… well it's part of the bad part, it's just that… I'm sure it's not the bulk of the bad part really, I'm sure the whole closed down bit is worse… Well sort of…"

"What is the bad part?" Marian said, silencing his chattering with a very authoritarian look in her eyes.

She felt anxious now, made her way out of Robin's embrace and paced around the camp. He remained with his arms in his sides and saw her growing concern, wondering how he could stop whatever was coming. She must not be troubled, she must be kept safe and far from harm, she must be spared. Yet he couldn't spare her.

"Then what is the bad part?!" she insisted "Tell me, I must know. This does concern me"

Little John shrugged his shoulders and exchanged looks with his friends.

"This does concern her" he said, his words sounding more like a statement than anything, definite and impossible to contradict "She will find out anyway"

Will sighed as he decided to be the bearer of bad news as usual.

"It seems the brothers have been taken to Nottingham. They have been accused of helping lawle…"

"… The Night Watchman" Marian called out as she realised what was coming "They have been accused of helping the Nigh Watchman!"

The shock was painted all over her face, an expression that Robin recognised far too well. She would be impossible to reason with now- she would be brave and not think about her own safety.

"Marian…" he said and took a step towards her.

"Someone must have seen me… They are closing it and the friars… It's my fault!"

"Marian!"

"… I should have been more careful… What will happen to them now! I have to do something…"

"No Marian, you must be careful! If Sir Guy has found out this much then you are in danger"

She looked at him, her eyes big and desperate.

"I have to go home" she said and started to walk towards her horse.

"No Marian! Marian! Listen to me!" Robin followed his beloved with rising panic. He had to make her stay and see this his way - he had to make her be careful- he had to calm her down! But her desperate face was filled with determined stubbornness. She turned to him before she mounted the horse.

"I will see you later" she said and gave him a light kiss, lingering just a while with her cool lips touching his in a way that made him feel worried rather than calmed. They didn't part like this, they stood entangled in each other, laughing and kissing as teenagers, daring the other to let go first until Allan or Much came and hurried them on. Not with a cool lingering kiss that was barely more than a feather to his lips. This was wrong.

Their eyes locked into each other in a silent moment.

"Please don't go" he pleaded.

"I have to. Robin don't worry, it will be fine"

As she turned her horse around Robin felt a rush of helplessness and panic rising in his chest.

"Marian! Do not do anything that I would do!" he shouted after her as she spurred her horse into a gallop. He stood and saw his love disappear into the forest- not knowing what she deliberated or planned. He wished he could find a way into her head and read the thoughts she wouldn't speak out loud. Now all he could do was wish that she wouldn't behave as he would have done. It was odd how he condemned his own actions in others, being pleased with sacrificing himself but not happy with anyone else mimicking his deeds.

"You can follow her later" Will said, feeling slightly nervous at Robin's state of mind. It was always a problem when his lady was involved, they had been down that road before, and in this moment they needed their leader to be a leader. "Just give her some time to tell her father. What shall we do now Robin?"

Robin looked over at the outlaws and decided that Will was right. He had to pick himself up. In a while he would take Much with him to Knighton and talk this over with Sir Edward and Marian- he just had to be patient.

"We need to fix this" he sighed "We can't let Gisbourne close monasteries and arrest friars. Will, you and Allan go into Nottingham. Find out what you can…" He paced around the camp, and then looked like he was struck by an idea "… You will talk to the Butcher sisters"

It was odd to see how this one sentence changed the atmosphere in the entire camp. Will seemed pleased- he could hardly conceal a boyish smile- and started to make preparations for the trip before Robin had finished talking. Djaq and Allan on the other hand looked as if they had been struck by lightning, staring at Robin in stunned desperation.

"Why not me?" Djaq exclaimed "A girl can talk to a girl"

Robin shook his head "Two is enough, you and John will stay in the camp"

"No! Two in the camp is too many… It's a waste of resources"

"Djaq!" Robin walked over to her- putting his palm on her shoulder and giving her a steady look "From what Allan has said I don't think this is the kind of women that talk to other women. Allan knows them and perhaps meeting this mystery woman will make Will stop going on and on about her. She is magical now, trust me I have been young, he needs to see that she is made of flesh just as much as any other human"

"Well, it's her flesh that is the problem" Allan interposed, but his voice was hardly more than a whisper. Robin had made up his mind- it was no use arguing about this. He would have to go into Nottingham. He would have to face his ghost, his past, his pain- Young Allan's bliss and doom. He would have to do it today, unprepared and defenceless. He listened with half an ear to Djaq's protests; heard them become fainter and fainter and then disappearing into a final pleading look at him. 'Allan, help me' it said, but he wouldn't have helped her even if he could. It was a bad idea to bring her, a bad idea to bring Will, a bad idea to go there at all. Allan shrugged at Djaq, avoiding her disappointed look, and then started to follow in Will's eager footsteps as they made their way into town.

---

"You have closed down a monastery!?" Vaysey looked over at Sir Guy with something surprisingly much like astonishment in his eyes. "Well, well… Tell me, Gisbourne, what did they think about that? I bet they pulled up their skirts and ran like little girls, hm?"

Sir Guy smirked at the sheriff, relieved that he didn't seem displeased with his actions. Vaysey was amused if anything, perhaps a bit intrigued even.

"I got them in the dungeons" he said, using his most professional voice "I will make them talk. The watchman will hang because this, I assure you"

"Yes, yes, The Night Watchman la-di-da-di-da… That is your little distraction. But tell me Guy, what if one of the brothers dies from your 'tender care'? Hm? Won't you burn in hell for that? Your immortal sole forever plagued and licked by the flames of the eternal fire"

"I wouldn't think so Sir, the devil comes in many shapes and flavours" Gisbourne said, shaking off his own uneasiness about this particular problem "The monastery is under the patronage of Sir Edward. I will go there this afternoon to bring them the good news"

"Really?" Vaysey seemed to beam up like a torch "This keeps getting better! I will come with you Gisbourne, make sure you get my horse ready as well"

A steady knock at the door interrupted Sir Guy's response. He felt degraded and annoyed; once again the sheriff proved that he didn't trust Guy to do anything that Vaysey himself had even the remotest interest in. Now Vix stepped into the room, 'Matron Butcher' Sir Guy thought scornfully, and distracted him with her swaying hips and voluminous white breast. To be honest he couldn't see her breast, they were only shapes under a deep purple dress, but he knew her intimately enough by now to know that they were white as milk. Even dressed like this she somehow looked revealing and impossible not to imagine naked and teasing. Gisbourne felt for Vix Butcher what he had felt for numerous women before her- a raw craving tainted by contempt, which had nothing to do with love. Yet he knew that even a Marian by his side wouldn't have stopped him in this pursuit after easy pleasure.

"Gentlemen" Vix said with her powerful yet husky voice "I interrupt your conversation in the most pleasant of ways, to bring you wine"

This wasn't a chore for a matron, so there was no doubt that she interrupted them for no other reason than her own guilty pleasure. It would surprise him if she proved innocent of spying on them; she had probably heard every word of this conversation and every other conversation of any importance that took place within the castle walls. If he played his cards right she might be a nice spy, making sure that nothing was kept a secret from him.

"Ah thank you Vix. You can go now" Vaysey dismissed her so easily, as if he was immune to her charms "And take Gisbourne here with you. He's starting to bore me"

As Sir Guy left the room sheriff Vaysey thought about these interesting new events. Sir Guy was obsessed enough about the Night Watchman to close down a monastery to get to him. Sir Guy, this detached sadistic sergeant, was obsessed enough with Lady Marian to kill an abbot just to get to her. And Sir Guy shared bed with Vix Butcher, too stuck in his own obsessions to see her net closing around him. This amused Vaysey like nothing before- he couldn't wait to see what would happen next in this stimulating drama.

---

Marian needed to think. She knew full well that Robin would follow her, or suspected it at least, thus she had told the maid to pour her a bath as soon as she came to Knighton. There was no time to tell her father about this now- she needed to contemplate these things in silence and he would require her to listen to him. Now it was afternoon and she could hear that they had come. It surprised her that they took the main entrance- the fact that Robin went to her father meant that he considered this serious, threatening even. Now she could hear them moving about, talking to each other, their voices raised one moment, hushed the next, the steps fast and stressed, then lingering. They sent her maid up to get her, she sent the poor girl down again. This went on for a considerable amount of time, and the maid looked more flushed and embarrassed for every time she knocked on the door. Marian felt quite sorry for her, and now the girl stood once again in the room, looking ashamed and ridiculed by the situation.

"Mistress your father asks you to come down" she said.

"I know"

"Shall I tell them to wait then?" the maid continued. Her mistress' silence made her feel slightly confused, unsure what to do "The water is cold, I must heat up more for you"

Marian twitched and looked around as she saw the room for the first time. The bath was indeed cold, her fingers and toes soft and wrinkly and the rose petals in the water sad and faded.

"No" she sighed, reluctantly giving in to the situation "Tell them I'm on my way"

She made herself presentable, her hair still a bit wet and tangled but not worse than on a rainy day. Then she took a deep breath and went out to face the three men that waited for her in the hall.

Robin looked odd when he turned to find her at the top of the stairs, worried from one angle and blushed as a shy boy from another- as if she had taken him off guard doing something he shouldn't.

"Marian!" his voice sounded edgy and sharp as he spoke "You have kept us waiting"

"I am sorry, I was in my bath"

This made Robin look away from her, the blush on his cheeks deepening. Marian could hardly keep her from laughing in spite of the grave situation. So that was his problem. Robin stood with his fiancée's father in Knighton Hall, talking about arrested friars and monasteries that were closed down, and yet he couldn't help being distracted by the thought of her taking a bath just a door away. It seemed to disturb him quite a lot, her father's presence could hardly make it easier, and now she was here as well. Poor boy, life is not easy. He stood silent and tried to avoid looking at anyone- gathering his thoughts to focus on what was important.

"Master…" Much said watching Robin's odd passivity with some confusion. His master had been on the edge the entire visit and now he just stood there looking rather self-conscious by the fireplace "Master, wake up! Marian is here, we have to talk about this now. What we came for"

Robin drew a deep breath and started to occupy himself with the fire as he spoke, putting in logs and poking the coal around in a very half-hearted way.

"I have sent my men to Nottingham to ask around" he said "I will deal with this"

"You can't" Marian stood erect by the bottom of the stairs and her words made him turn to her, finally fully tuned into the conversation.

"What do you mean I can't? Marian don't be stubborn, now is not the time!"

"Don't tell me…" she halted herself in the middle of the sentence, realising she had to keep herself calm. "I mean that you can't make them reopen the monastery. You might be able to save the friars but it will put them on the run from the law. Your help is a last resort, I'm sorry if I have offended you, but I am right"

Robin stood and watched her- his eyes widened- yet he found himself lost for words. It was very difficult to contradict her when she was right.

"Well then what do you suggest?" he said. At least knowing her foolish plans would give him a chance to talk her out of it.

"I have a plan"

"And I won't like it will I?"

"No…" she admitted "I think you might not like it"

"If you will not tell me what it is, then at least tell me if it resembles something I would do in a situation like this"

"Robin…"

The sound of horses on the yard disrupted the argument, making everyone aware of a rather unwelcome visit.

"Master it's the sheriff!" Much exclaimed "And Gisbourne! What should we do! If they find us here…"

"Shush! I know I know… We need to hide" Robin turned to Edward who showed them a secluded place by the stairs, a simple act that seemed to come natural to the man even though he would rather not have the outlaws in his house at all.

Sir Guy looked pleased with himself when he stepped into Knighton Hall, a victorious grin on his face. He didn't even try to conceal it, Marian thought, realising how blind she once had been when it came to this callous cruel man. The sheriff was by his side, small and wide as a rat but much more difficult to get rid off. She had a plan, and Robin wouldn't like it at all. Now he was hiding in the room and was forced to receive the news in the same moment as she presented them to Vaysey and Guy- unable to do anything about it. The situation made her feel a bit cruel but she had no choice. Whether you were a Marion, who looked at the broader picture, or a Robin, who saw every human life as it was his brother's, this was the best solution. The fact that it might break her lover's heart was of minor importance. She would be fine, he would be fine, they would still be together and the monastery would be safe. Marian silently prayed that the sheriff would see things her way, prayed that this would be enough.

"I know why you have come here sheriff" she said, ignoring Guy and immediately addressing the man who held the real power in the room.

"Do you really Lady Marian? Heard the rumours have you? Hm?"

"I have. I am sorry for saying this sheriff, but if you think that you can close a monastery and punish friars without retribution from the church then you are a fool. And you are no fool"

Vaysey looked at her in thoughtful silence, as he was contemplating the truth behind her words.

"Perhaps" he said, half-acknowledging her theory "But I can afford that. The church is weak here already"

"Yes but if you do this then the church will make sure it is not so weak here any longer. I'm simply pointing out that it will cost you, this game of yours. Or is it Gisbourne's game perhaps?"

Marian looked over at Sir Guy and saw that his smile had faded into a dark stare- his features frozen as if they had been carved in stone. He didn't like that she had stepped over him, turned to Vaysey instead, and now he felt insulted by her actions. She cursed herself a little for her pride and stubbornness, it would have been better to try and please him. He was easy enough to sway with polite smiles and courteous words, but it was too late now.

"What do you suggest Lady Marian?" Vaysey said. She was a bit shocked to see him by the fireplace; his way to poke in it mimicked Robin's actions only minutes earlier as a weird satire "Someone has to be punished. I can't loose my face to the populous"

"Let's for a moment play with the thought that I might have something to offer you in exchange" Marian said and silenced her father's protest with a look. Edward watched his daughter with shock and awe but knew that she was outside his control "Something that might enable you to keep your face, sheriff" she continued "Something that will be worth more to you and cost less"

"You got my attention…"

"Your part of the bargain is to release the friars from all accusations and restore the monastery"

"Yes, yes I get that much. Get on with it- you are starting to bore me"

"… And in exchange…" Marian drew a deep shivering breath- her heart pounded so fiercely in her chest that it made her tremble. She feared this, feared the consequences, feared Robin's reaction "In exchange I take the fall instead"

There it was, her plan was out in the open, and in the moments that followed she could almost hear Robin's silent scream roaring through the house. Sir Edward looked at her in panic, and she opened her ears to any sound that might give the other guests away. There were a low thumping noise, a muffled moan and something like sharp, shallow breaths. Yet it was all so discrete she might have imagined it, hearing it only in her head. She shut her eyes, letting herself relax a bit. She was so tense now it almost hurt- every muscle in her body seemed to be strained to its limits, struggling not to snap and break.

"What do you mean you take the fall?!" Gisbourne called out, suddenly looking shocked beyond his control "These friars have committed crimes, you have done nothing!"

It was almost a joke- Sir Guy telling the woman who broke his heart that she had committed no crimes, done nothing wrong. The way he brooded through the nights- building up his hate and resentment towards her- only to have it all mixed up with lust and some sort of frustrating tenderness as soon as he saw her. There was no woman or man, or anything in between for that matter, in this world that had committed graver crimes towards Sir Guy of Gisbourne than Lady Marian Fitzwater.

"Then let us say I have committed a crime" Marian said "Let us say that I admit to having helped the Night Watchman. Let us say that I admit to this in an open trial. It is not enough to have me hanged, but you will get the chance to punish me. I think you would like that sheriff. I think that would please you more that having your dungeons full of friars"

Vaysey looked at her and sat down in the big chair by the fireplace- putting his fingertips together and leaning his lips to them, almost concealing the grin that grew and made his features look rather grisly in their vicious amusement.

"Yes…" he said "Yes, yes… I think I would like that very much…"

* * *

Omg what have Marian done... The next chapter is angsty, the most angsty piece I have ever written... yet... hehe. But I like it, and I hope you all liked this chapter! Comments are welcome as always.

hugs /Trix


	4. The Last Supper

Right, here is chapter 4. It doesn't happen much in it to be honest, but I like it. The last part is very sad.../sob/

**Thanx for the comments!**

_Marian66_: lol, omg... well you won't have any reason to kill me, don't worry. The next couple of chapters might hurt a bit though... /runs and hides behind a sofa/  
_loredana_: ty :-) I like writing Gisbourne a lot... He's cruel but with... eh depth.  
_DeanParker_: Well the plot will thicken in the next chapter... You'll see.

* * *

Chapter 4: The Last Supper

"We need to get into town" Allan said, as he and Will saw the grey walls of Nottingham appear between the tree trunks "It shouldn't be too hard really- the gates should be open…"

"We just need to make sure the guards don't notice us" Will added. "It's getting trickier every time"

The growing fame had started to become a problem for the outlaws- they were often recognized by guards they had encountered before or even from descriptions or rumours. When cloaks become an attribute then cloaks also fails to be good disguise, and even though people in general wore cloaks they didn't curl up under them as if they were afraid to turn into dust in the sun. Will and Allan stopped by the south entrance and watched the scene before them; the two guards would recognize them without doubt, it was unlucky but inescapable. Allan knew these two men well enough to greet them if he met them in the street- well he wouldn't do that, obviously, but he could have.

"That one guard is called Peter, the other one is S… S something…" Will said shaking his head "We can't sneak past them. Shall we check the other entrances?"

"But this is the best one" Allan whined. He didn't even want to go into town and now his shoes were soaked in suspiciously thick yellow water. They stood down by the vagrants and general outcast-trash that weren't allowed within the city walls and thus camped by the bridges- unpleasant smelling people that were too low to be helped. These people were lost, there was no kindness left in the harsh lives they lived. Allan knew, he had spent time with this kind of trash- and to be honest most of them weren't very good people. Desperation made them turn to alcohol- a man could easily get killed in a fight over the last ale in the bottle here- the men beat up their women and the women beat up their kids. Allan would like to believe that they were born better, that they could change and be saved. But who would save them? Who would dedicate their life to make an old boozer see sense and repent his sins? Who would cover up the grey hair on an aging prostitute and make her a decent woman?

When Allan looked around he was suddenly struck by the realisation that this wasn't the kind of vagrant trash that he knew. In the yellow stinking mud sat widows with small children that had little chance of growing old in this world- elderly couples crouched under a shared blanket to comfort each other in this their autumn years. The winter would kill the small children and the elderly, Allan realised with a sudden chill running through his body. They would never be able to save them all, not all the stolen bread in the world was enough. In fact, with a few drunken exceptions, the stronger outcasts weren't here at all- they would be by the other gates. In the world of vagrants and beggars the south gate was as low as you could get. It was situated by the dyer's quarters, and the whole area reeked of urine from the bleaching process. This was also why it was the best gate; there would never be more guards there than necessary- no one in the right mind lingered by the south gate.

"Clever that shiffi ey?" an old woman suddenly turned her wrinkly weatherworn face to Will "Lissen lad you look like a sweet boy, you don't belong 'ere, so you must be one of those thugs the shiffi is after. We hear a lot down 'ere us old crones, 'n it's like this you see…" she paused to cough, making the small birdlike body convulse in spasms. Forget the winter, Allan thought, the autumn will kill off the elderly. "The shiffi takes the guards that know ye…" the old lady continued "…'n he put 'em up by the gates. That way you can't sneaky peaky round walking in 'n out of Nottinam no more"

The woman blinked at Will after revealing this secret to the two young men, seemingly quite pleased with herself. They would have to get her something to thank her, some bread perhaps. Give her too much and she would end up being killed by greedier and stronger outcasts.

"Oh sod it!" Allan exclaimed "Let's go home instead, we can do this another day, well prepared mind you. This is madness"

"We can't wait we have orders! And…" Will suddenly stopped in the middle of the sentence, his attention caught by something on the bridge "Allan look! This might be our lucky day"

Allan followed his gaze and felt his heart jump as he realised what he was looking at, or rather what was looking at them. On the edge to this pit of human misery stood Katie Butcher and studied the face of the man that used to be her lover. Allan thought that he would have liked their first real meeting after so many years to be less degrading- less drenched in mud and privy waste- but then again it might suit him well. Young Allan had always been the kind of man that people threw out with the trash when the ale houses closed.

---

There he was, Katie Butcher thought, Allan-a-Dale. He looked good, even standing ankle deep in urine, the years complemented him. No one would say that about her, she knew as much, but ugly women couldn't afford to be self-conscious. There was only one thing in this world that Katie could do, and that was to disappear, to watch from a distance, to be a shadow. This was the way to be safe- to always remain harmless. She had too many secrets in her chest- carried too many terrors that could never be let out. Some would call her scarred but what human isn't scarred. Katie lived the only way she knew, moment by moment, and now she needed to help these people to get into the town. She didn't really know why, it was just something she felt she had to do.

It would be tricky- she did not have her sister's charms so that was out of the question. Just a distraction, a little theatre act, it was something that she mastered from years of fraud and deception after all. She scanned the vagrants for a suitable figure, someone that looked unsavoury, not too weak and preferably far from Allan and that other boy. What did the rumours call that friend by Allan's side? Will Scarlet - that must be him. He looked like the kind of boy who should be kept far from Vix.

Now Katie found a suitable man for her scheme, not one of the elderly but rather the kind of vagrant that she knew- a hopeless boozer with red spongy skin and eyes constantly out of focus. She fixed Allan's eyes nodding to him- he looked confused but seemed ready enough. Then Katie Butcher screamed.

"Guaaaaaaaards!!!!! Guards that is him!!!!" she pointed a thin accusing finger at the boozer who looked up with drunken eyes. He looked strong- he would give the guards a fight, and that served her intentions well "Guards! Hurry before he gets away! That man… he robbed me! He touched me in ways that I would not let my husband even! That man followed me to my work in the castle, he must hang! Guaaaaaaaaards!!!!!!"

And the guards came, both of them, running to take care of this pressing problem. If this woman worked in the castle, a married woman none the less, then this was a grave matter indeed, it could not be overlooked. The gate was unguarded as the soldiers occupied themselves with a surprised old boozer- the man was beaten, pushed into the yellow mud and arrested for crimes he would have been to drunk to commit. Allan had to grab Will's arm and drag him into Nottingham since the boy couldn't believe what he just witnessed.

"The man…" Will said as they were safe in the dyer's quarters "Allan that man, this Katie girl sacrificed an innocent man to get us in! We should have helped him!"

"What, get him convicted for associating with outlaws as well? Will, this worked, it was harsh I know, but then again you understand now"

"Understand what?"

"Why you never… ever… trust a Butcher sister" Allan said to his younger friend fixating his eyes in a steady stare "And that applies to all Butcher sisters, alright?"

"Alright" Will answered, still feeling rather uneasy "What do we do now?"

"We wait for Katie"

"Can't we just find Vix instead…"

Allan silenced Will with a look and then they stood and watched the street for any sign of the small read headed woman. Allan felt rather embarrassed by his own emotions. What Katie had done, that horrible theatre outside the gates, had only spurred his fascination. It was clever and brave, she had chosen the perfect victim, and she had acted. He always found her most interesting when she put her passivity aside, and now he was shocked to realise that she till enchanted him- that he still craved her. He should be feeling the same uneasiness that Will was trapped in, but instead Allan-a-Dale waited for Katie Butcher full of shameful expectation.

She sneaked up on them from behind- Allan should have known that she would. Katie knew every road she had ever walked; she could have told you the amount of windows you passed from point A to point B and the exact number of ways you could move between the two locations. This was a tactic she used to survive- Katie Butcher would never find herself trapped anywhere.

"Hello" she said simply "What do you want?"

Allan looked down at her, wondered what it was that made everyone think she was so plain. Did they not see how big her eyes were, how sharp that look under the flaming red curls? Still, she was the same old Katie once again- stood before him and asked them to take the initiative. Passive and faint, someone offering her services but completely lacking all interest in them.

"Take us to Vix?" Will asked her at Allan's odd silence "I'm Will by the way"

She gave him a brief look, a shadow of a smile and then added a short "I know. Come then"

As they followed her through Nottingham Will felt anxious, afraid that she worked for the sheriff and would trap them as rats. It was reasonable doubts, would indeed be less reasonable not do doubt her, yet they followed.

"How did she know who I am?" Will whispered to Allan.

"She knows stuff"

"Why do we follow her, we'll get trapped for sure"

"We have our orders mate- I'm just doing as Lord Hood of Sherwood told us"

"But…"

"What is this- the bloody inquisition!?" Allan snapped "We'll just have to be careful"

They heard Vix's voice as they closed up to the stables- saw her between the wooden beams that held up the stable building's roof- her colourful figure joined by a tall dark man clothed in leather. It would be easy for Katie to call out if she wanted them to be found, but she didn't. She simply crouched down by Allan's side. He could feel her small, almost feeble body by his, knew that she would still give it to him if he asked. But it would not be what he wanted, that passive pale woman simply shrugging her shoulders at him, he would want her to meet him and she wouldn't do that now. She would never do that again.

"Tell me Guy, what is sheriff Vaysey's first name?" Vix said, her loud voice clear enough to hear every nuance from where they hid.

She stood by Gisbourne's side looking light, amused, pleasing- and she touched Sir Guy in the most subtle of ways, making it look almost accidental.

"I wouldn't know" Sir Guy answered her, but he was obviously taken by her charm- letting her distract him from the work he was occupied with. It seemed like he was making a retinue ready, apparently on his way out into the countryside.

"Oh but I think you do know. Since he doesn't mention it then I'm sure that it must be terribly embarrassing" She moved closer to the dark man, caressing his arm and making her eyes big and playful "Please tell me, just to humour me. Guy…" Her voice grew darker when she said his name, husky and cloaked in a promise that was not so innocent.

"It's not embarrassing Vix, it's a name worn by kings"

"Oh Guy just tell me! If you do not tell me then I will call you by our little…"

"You wouldn't!"

"I would. I so like your little nickname"

She smiled at him, locking her eyes in his. And then something happened that Allan hadn't expected. Sir Guy melted- his grim cold façade fell and his features gave away to a smirk. Not a Sir Guy smirk, mind you- it was the kind of smirk that two people would try to conceal as they shared a mutual amusement in a crowded room. It was the kind of smirk that you give in to when something is… well funny. Sir Guy actually seemed to consider something to be funny!

"Well" he said and leaned towards her, keeping his voice low enough to be only barely audible from where the outlaws hid "It is 'Pippin' actually…."

And Vix laughed, she behaved just as Vix would, laughing and clinging to Guy's tall strong body. That was not odd, but the fact that Gisbourne seemed to like it was very odd indeed. The man actually laughed, not a roaring laughter, but still not the evil chuckle that one would expect for him. It was simply an amused sniggering over a shared delight. Allan had not remembered how good Vix Butcher was, but now he could see the dark jealousy in Will's eyes and realised that the Butcher sisters might be more than just a little trouble…

---

It was not long until Sir Guy left together with the sheriff, leaving Vix Butcher to join her sister and the two outlaws in the shadows by the stable buildings.

"Allan-a-Dale! Oh I never… "Vix laughed as she saw the rather uneasy looking outlaw "You are still living outside the law I see. Well that's fine- we don't mind do we, Katie? Old friends are old friends after all. But you know, I like new friends even better! And who is this stunning young man by your side Allan? How ever did you keep a friend like that from me?!"

Will swallowed, looking nervous and stiff as he answered. "I'm Will Scarlet, miss" his voice was a little unsteady- his handshake hardly more than a vague gesture that just as well could have been an accident.

"And I'm Vera" she beamed "But call me Vix, all my friends do. And my enemies too mind you" She turned to Allan, pleased with the blush on Will's cheeks. He was where she wanted him- in a place where she was the sun and the moon and the earth and the heaven. "What do you want- surely it is something terribly dangerous."

"What do you know about the friars?" Allan said- eager to finish this off quickly. They had come for this- they would ask only this and then leave before the memories came over him again.

"They're in the dungeons. Katie brought them food didn't you?"

"Yes"

"Katie, how were they, are they being mistreated?" Will inquired. "Where are they being kept more precisely?"

"In the dungeons. Downstairs. They are being treated as prisoners with information"

"What, tortured?"

"Yes" she agreed- her face blank of all emotions "The abbot will die. A day perhaps. Maybe two"

Allan nodded at the information. It was hardly unexpected yet it was all the facts they got. Vix said less than she knew, no doubt, and perhaps Katie too. How much did these women know about the sheriff's plans?

They stayed for a while, Will small talking with Vix about this and that- flirting with her even. Allan didn't like it, but he couldn't concentrate on his young friend's badly chosen company now. His head was spinning and pounding with the old familiar headaches that he got under serious stress. He was standing face to face with Katie Butcher, and she was wearing a crimson wool dress that was wrong for her- it was too big, too expensive, too bright and far, far to red. When the two outlaws made their way back to the camp Allan could think of nothing but this red dress- how Katie Butcher once again had been standing before him draped, drenched, suffocated, in masses of crimson coloured waves…

----

"… And in exchange…" Marian said, partly turned to the corner where the outlaws hid, but her eyes were fixed on Sheriff Vaysey. She did not shiver- her gaze never flickered; only the voice had an undercurrent of anxiety.

Much had been watching Robin tensely ever since the sheriff and Gisbourne entered the hall- his master's features were dark, lost in a place deep inside that Much failed to reach. Still he kept watch over his master as one watches a wild animal; anxiously scrutinizing his mood for signs that might be alarming. These words Marian spoke felt like a judgement and they fell hard on Robin as a feared and anxiously awaited conviction. Much held his arm around on his master's shoulder- shocked to feel him tremble as a mouse with uncontrollable tiny shivers rippling through his body. His skin was rough as if he was cold- every fine hair standing at strict attention- his breathing laboured and heavy. It was only a matter of time, Much thought- but he hardy had time to finish the reflection before Marian's verdict was cast, and he was forced to control Robin's sudden reaction.

"…In exchange I take the fall instead" her nearly, but not perfectly, steady voice finished the sentence.

Robin was to tense to think, on the very edge of sanity, his body overtaken by emotions beyond his control. He was vaguely aware of Much's hand on his shoulder- a tingling sensation as the tiny hairs on his skin was forced to bend under the pressure. He had expected something like this from her, but that had only built on his anxiousness that now forced its way through his shields. There was wild and unstoppable turmoil in him- he tried to rise from where they sat shrouded in the darkness of the old manor, but Much threw himself over his back- forcing him back into safety with his own weight. The low thumping sound from the fall cut through the room as a dagger for Much, who was sure that they would be found. It would ruin everything, his master was about to get them all killed! Robin twisted and turned and tried to hiss out a strict order for Much to let him go- only to find himself stuck in his manservant's surprisingly tight grip. Much held his hand over Robin's mouth- turning his objections into a low muffled moan- and the seconds that passed grew thick with frustration and rage that slowly faded from Robin's face. It gave away to something different, an aching desperation, but it was tamed and his thoughts controlled his body- not the other way around. Now he was afraid instead, just as Much had been during the entire conversation, and feeling an unreasonable irritation at his manservant's sharp breaths as he panted for air after the odd skirmish.

A good manservant knows what his master needs even before he knows it himself, and Much was a very good manservant. Therefore it was truly disturbing to him that, ever since the return from the holy land, he'd found it increasingly difficult to understand Robin and predict his actions. Marian's presence in his life made him irrational and even more impulsive than usual. Now the two outlaws listened to the rest of the conversation in tense silence, hardly daring to breathe for fear of making a sound. Much could feel his feet going to sleep- pins and needles in his toes- lactic acid in his legs. He could still sense Robin's body shudder and tremble. The sheriff moved from away the fireplace, passing them close enough to see the weave in his dark wool trousers, and then he sat down on a chair with his back to the outlaws. He seemed pleased, the only one in the room who was content with the turn of events.

Vaysey and Sir Guy remained a while longer in Knighton Hall, making small talk and let themselves be tended to, ate the food and drank the wine that the maid came with. It felt like a hundred years, an eternity of patience, to the outlaws. Much thought his body would fall apart, it hurt like never before, he was so hungry- and the sheriff ate with great appetite close enough for them to smell the lovely seasoned meat and sweet fruits. Robin tried to ignore his own body, knew that it was weak and trembling- knew that the heart beat so hard that he was surprised that the sheriff didn't hear it, but he pushed it all away from him. Let the stupid heart pound and bounce, let the stupid hands tremble and shutter, just be silent. He had to think, but the smell of newly cooked meat made his stomach flip. He always lost his appetite when he was stressed- felt disgusted with the smell and taste of food, even the thought of it was revolting and made him feel sick. Finally the waiting seemed to draw towards its end as the sheriff rose from the chair and made his way over to the door.

"We'll pick you up tomorrow I think Lady Marian, hm?" he said as he strolled across the room "A little walk through the Wednesday market, declaring the open trial to the populous. Advertising it, yes I think I like that. And, oh… Make no mistakes My Lady. If you fail to do as you have promised I will show no mercy to there friars" He looked at the two nobles with nothing but delighted amusement in his scornful features "Well then, Marian, Eddie, see you later. This have been fun, we should do it again some time… Goodbye"

With those words sheriff Vaysey left Knighton Hall, a sulking Sir Guy close behind him, and Marian motioned to Much and Robin to stay down until the coast was clear. Then she turned to the corner where they hid, watching Robin's face in the shadows- awaiting his reaction. While Much hurried up as soon as he could Robin lingered, remaining crouched down and partly hidden. He felt shattered, unable to gather his thoughts, and now he had to face Marian. What could he say? It was too late to talk her out of it, to late to scream and cry at her, to late to pray and plead. Would this never end? Marian, she lifted him up, made this hard life wonderful and bright, and she tore him down again and again. Robin rose with some effort- his body felt so weak, feeble and pathetic- for a moment wondering if this would be his downfall eventually. He called himself a warrior but felt as a cripple faced with these problems, this woman- he needed her so badly and yet she was always in jeopardy, threatening to disappear from him forever. He stood with his hands in his sides, the heavy head slightly tilted and bent down, suddenly feeling how sore his eyes were. He had not known that he had cried, he never cried- yet he always cried for her.

There were three other people in the room but Robin could hardly feel their presence- Much's worried face, Sir Edward's silent desperation over the daughter that he failed to control, and the maid that stood so discrete and watched the tragedy- they were all shadows in the periphery. The maid didn't know what to do, but in the simple way of servants she stepped up to the table to get on with her chores and take away the food. Her movements made them all watch her, concentrating on this one activity taking place in a room that seemed paralysed. Much was the first one to speak, took charge of the situation in the same way as he always looked after his master and saw to his needs and wishes.

"Sir Edward, can I have something to eat?" he said, turning to the master of the manor. He was a commoner, a servant even, ordering nobility around, but that didn't matter. Faced with resourcefulness they all did as they were told. "The maid could give me something in the kitchen. And why don't you come with me Edward? My master and Lady Marian needs to talk"

They left the couple alone in the hall; Marian wishing he would speak and Robin wishing she had never spoken a word that day. He felt angry with her, it was irrational but he clung to that one more manageable emotion as he always did faced with a trauma.

"What do you think you are doing?" he said finally, his voice low and a bit edgy "Are you completely out of your mind!? Marian what are you doing?!" He could hear his voice rising, becoming louder until it resembled the scream that still rippled through his body, letting it out. He had to let it out. "They will hurt you, torture you, kill you even, Marian what do you think you are doing?! What were you thinking?! Marian!!!" Silly girl, silly, silly girl! "Marian why do you do this!? Why?! You're behaving as a fool Marian!!!" His face was wet so he had to be crying, the picture of Marian was too blurred to see what state she was in. She might be cold or broken- she might be angry or aloof. There was only silence from her- she let him yell at her, taking in the accusing words, accepting his panic and fear. He looked at her now, saw that she stood erect in the middle of the room, her face wet with tears. It made his anger fade- the overwhelming sadness growing in its place. It was too late, why had she done this.

"Marian…" he said with a final effort- his husky voice faint and pleading. "Why?"

"It was the only way to save them" she whispered to the room, to the walls and floorboards, to the flames in the fireplace, to the flies that circled around the left over food on the table, to the fading flowers and the woven tapestries on the walls. She knew that he heard her words but she couldn't speak them to him.

"It was not the only way" he said, some energy returning to his voice "We would have found a better way- we could have used the church's influence now that they are involved already…"

"The church is corrupt Robin, we don't want them here. Prince Johns reign has made everything corrupt. He wants it that way, a weak and corrupt England that is easy to manipulate and…"

"…Oh please! No more politics now" he interrupted her "This 'greater good' you always talk of, how can this be the greater good?! Is the greater good an abbot named Thomas now? You sacrifice yourself the same way that I did, this is madness! Don't you ever listen to yourself?!"

He felt angry with her again, frustrated and trapped by the impossible situation. He wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her, shake her hard and violently until she admitted that this was wrong, found a way to turn back the hands of time and make it all well. He wanted to shake her, but when his hands closed around her soft shoulders and their eyes locked into each other he pulled her close instead. This kiss he gave her was violent, soaked in tears and fear and pain and panic; it shook her more than his hands ever could have done. They squeezed together so tight that it hurt- the kisses were so deep and desperate, sucking and tugging- they clung together with such force, pushed each other around in something that was a fight and a lover's embrace all in one. It was tender and harsh, and in another time it would have ended with flesh against flesh, acting it out in tormented pleasure. Now it simply faded, their clothes dishevelled, their skin bruised and scratched. They stood leaned against each other and panted for air, taking comfort in the mild pain the dance had caused their bodies. He held her in his arms, only caressing her with light strokes now, giving her soft pecks. She tasted salt from tears, everything tasted salt.

"Why fight over this?" Marian said- her voice hushed and a bit thick from crying "It is too late. I made my choice, we can hope for the best"

She felt Robin twitch a little, but he was tired now, too tired to argue with her.

"God how this hurts" he whispered, hardly more than a draught from his lips. His words felt out of character to Marian, they were too truthful and simple. There was nothing more to say on this subject, nothing she could do to ease his pain and fear. It wouldn't help to be brave, so she gave in to her own fear and simply nodded and pulled her betrothed closer. They remained like this, silent and entangled in each other, until Much and Edward came back up to meet with them.

The father and best friend of the two lovers had heard the bulk of the conversation from the kitchen. Now Much ordered the maid to serve them supper, Edward was so feeble faced with this shock that Much took over his role as master of the house. They ate under strangely cheerful small talk- joking and speaking of the old times- but the undercurrents of tragedy never left the room. Robin would have liked to stay the night, he could have slept in the stables, he could have sat by her window until the sun rose- he could even have put a sword between their bodies and lied by her side. But Sir Edward needed this time with his only child- Much knew that even if no one else in the room did- and he made sure that it happened that way. He could be driven in times of need- he could pull himself together when his master fell apart. And that was why Robin loved him.

It was also why Robin hated him when they strolled back to the camp, exhausted by the events that had made this day into such a nightmare. Much silenced the other outlaws with a strangely authorising look in his face at their arrival- whatever Allan and Will had found out in Nottingham could wait. There was nothing more Robin could do about this, and in the moment his head hit the ground he simply fell into a dreamless slumber as a pure instinct of self-preservation.

* * *

Well that's it... Next chapter is more eventful, but I hope you liked this all the same.

plz comment!

/Trix


	5. Walk the Distance

I'm sorry Marian66, I know this story is rather cruel and angsty. Sensitive people should probably consider themselves warned... :-/

A lot of people seem to like my version of Sir Guy. I'm very glad to hear that, since I really enjoy to wite that character. I'm not a GoG fan, I really prefer the little lean keen fighting machine (Robin that is), but Gisbourne's personality is fashinating to explore.

Anyway, thanx for the somments :-D

* * *

Chapter 5: Walk the distance

There was a moment, just a brief flash between sleep and wake, when Robin felt perfectly happy. The sun embedded him in soft warmth that was so rare for this time of the year that he thought himself moved to a different place- preferably a lush summer meadow far from the grim reality of Nottingham. Then the world fell down over him, hit him with such force that he felt unable to rise, unable to open his eyes or move the stiff body. It was inevitable- she was always the first thing he thought about when he woke and now her picture was painted in anguish and pain. Marian… Taking the blame… Sacrifice… Jail… Punishment! How long had he slept? How long had he escaped these overwhelming problems that he had to face as David faced Goliath? It was too long, he had to rise.

"Ah master, you're up" Much said as soon as his master moved into some sort of half sitting position. Robin sat leaned much like a roman senator in a divan, except the bottle by his side was filled with water rather than wine, and he lifted it with some effort. God what a headache he had, his head pounded as if Athena herself tried to spring out of it.

"What time is it?" Robin winced, his voice sounding hoarse and strained. This body of his reacted to severe stress by making it worse, growing weak and pathetic when he needed to be strong.

"Soon-to-be halfway to noon-ish" Much's voice had a very cheerful ring to it, the way you speak to very sick or very old people that needs to not be troubled. "But never mind, we'll get you something to munch on master- you must be feeling rather peckish"

"Much!" Robin gave his manservant a very irritated look "I can't eat! We must be getting into town!"

"Ah… yes… thought you might say that. I will insist on you eating anyway, I have already started…"

"I'll take an apple on the way!" Robin interrupted him- even though he had no intentions whatsoever of eating any apple on the way, or in any near future for that matter.

"Robin" Allan went up them with a uncharacteristically serious look in his face. He felt a connection to the outlaw leader in this moment that surprised him- so Katie brought out the softness in Allan-a-Dale it seemed, even when she was cruel and callous "I reckon it doesn't really matter what we found out yesterday, right?"

"Not unless we can use it" Robin sighed. "Marian…" He shut his eyes at the thought that made sparkles of pain flash before him "Marian fixed it. So now we have a worse problem"

"Women…" Allan said in a half hearted attempt to be the old cheeky Allan who made everything into a joke. "More trouble than they're worth really"

Robin nodded sadly and sat up, forcing his way through the waves of low throbbing pain that kept coming. He moaned a little from the effort- earning a sympathising gaze from Allan.

"Djaq made me something earlier" he said "For headache. Well, against it... Kind of worked"

"Numbs you off" Robin mumbled. "I need to be sharp. What did the Butcher sisters have to say?"

"Nothing much. The friars were in the dungeons and the abbot was dying, obvious stuff"

"Had they been tortured?" Much interposed, gaining a tormented look from Robin who felt very uneasy at the thought of any kind of torture.

Allan glanced over at the outlaw leader with a silent excuse - wishing he could spare him- then nodded regretfully. "Yeah"

"It's to be expected" Robin said, then stood up so fast it made him dizzy. This was stupid, his young healthy body being this feeble in times of dire need. Perhaps it would be wiser to eat- he felt rather sure that it would help- but he was feeling too stressed and sick. He had to put up a brave face, she would see him in the crowds and know that he never left her. There would be a way to make sure she wasn't tortured, he would find a way when there was none. He was Robin Hood after all- no obstacle was too high, no scheme too intricate- no mission could ever be too big for this army of lawless men. "We'll fix it" he mumbled, more to reassure himself than the outlaws who gathered around him. They formed a rather motley retinue as they made their way into town- comfortably warmed by the beaming morning sun.

---

Here she was- a noblewoman in a rope that cut into the soft skin on her wrists- dressed in ebony white as a maiden, her hair in silky braids on her head. Marian thought that the sun had never looked smugger in its blue sky than on this crystal clear Wednesday morning. It seemed to taunt her, she thought, this arrogant haughty sun; this sun who beamed so happily at the day of her fall. She was tied to a horse- kept in a leash like a dog- the hem of her dress muddy and frayed. She had fallen on the way, struggled to rise as the mare kept going- now she was covered in dry dust and the ebony coloured wool in her garb had ugly grass stains. Sheriff Vaysey showed no mercy and Sir Guy of Gisbourne was nothing but a meek shadow by his side. She had been so sure on her own shrewdness, so sure to get out of this by being clever and well-spoken- kept safe by the power of her mind and words alone. But faced with the sheriff's cruelty she now found herself struck by doubts and a low aching fear- the rope strained and bruised her hands, pulling her forward, and made her lack of freedom painfully obvious. In this beautiful clear morning glory- under this radiating golden orb that looked so smug and pleased with itself- Marian realised that she had lost all control over her own life. She had put her head between the lion's jaws, and hoped it wouldn't bite her.

There they were- the outcast trash that gathered below the city gates. A boozer danced around with his bottle and sang Marian a song as she passed him- rude words that accompanied this fallen lady of the nobility into town. The living dead- the lost people- they all judged her harder for her jewels and name but they didn't dare to act on it. As she passed the heavy city gates the crowd of bystanders began to feel more like an entity than individuals. Marian could feel scorn and pity following in her foot steps- it radiated from the masses that crouched together on both sides of the road that she walked- their collective mind condemning her. This passage was broader than any other street in the town and cut through Nottingham like a gash, yet it was too crowded now to give room for more than two horses walking abreast. She could see children sitting on their father's broad shoulders to gain a better view of her, women leaning out from the windows and doors. They must think her fallen now, a sad, sad story to pass down to grandchildren in years to come.

And there he was- a slender outlaw shrouded in a hooded cloak, sneaking through to the shadows as a cat. The smile came over Marian so sudden she couldn't stop it- she had to force herself to get it under control before it gave him away. He made an effort to make her see him, she and no one else, and she made an effort to find him in the crowd without making his presence obvious. Now he knew that she had seen him, now he kept himself better hidden than before, yet she knew exactly where he was- a swift and graceful movement in the dusk by the walls. He had one eye on her and one eye on the town that lay before him, finding the best way to get through it- climbing, ducking, zigzagging, crawling and swinging his way ahead.

There she was- a dirty bruised noblewoman standing in Nottingham square with the gallows forming a grim and gloomy setting. She had walked the distance between Knighton Hall and Nottingham castle without a single glance from the sheriff. Now he addressed the crowds, telling them about the open trials- advertising it in the same manner as a bread merchant shouted out his wares on the market. She listened with half an ear- searching for Robin among the many strange faces. When she found him he was so close it made her twitch with surprise. She glanced at him, using her peripheral vision, and he stared at her with every inch of his soul.

Here they were- Marian's face was trembling, her breathing fast and shivering, her eyes big and desperate despite her efforts not to fall apart. Now Robin seemed painted in dark and desperate determination when he looked at her- serious and troubled in the shadows of his rust-red hood. There was a problem that needed to be resolved- his Marian trembled from fear or grief and he needed to be strong for her. She dared to look at him, to meet his eyes for a short moment before the rope forced her into the castle. It was just a second but it was enough for her to feel that she might do this without breaking- Marian was not alone.

So it was. When she walked into the castle the distance between her and Robin was taken over by the children- they danced and skittered around filled with youthful innocence and joy, singing a song that some innovative youngster had made up during the day. The words reached Marian without malice, and yet that might be the worst part of it. Her arrival- her plagued walk through the crowded streets- was an event- nothing but a distraction, a welcome little drama. And thus the children's choir sang:

_A lady in a rope,  
__A lady in a rope,  
__Can you catch a lady? - A lady in a rope._

_She's so pretty,  
__Such a pity,  
__This is better! -  
__From the smithy,  
__Chain her up in silver now-  
__Let's lead the lady like a cow._

_A lady in a chain,  
__A lady in a chain,  
__Can you catch a lady? - A lady in a chain._

---

Brother Alistair was not a man to ponder much about life- it was simply something that happened to him, and most of the time he didn't like it. Still, as he made his way- half walking, half being dragged, lifted and thrown ahead- through the corridors in Nottingham castle he was feeling rather philosophical. He had two bigger men- intimidating guards in chain mail none the less- squeezing his meagre body between them and holding his pathetic arms in a firm grip that made him moan and whine. Alistair was bright enough to realise that he was in trouble. One would think that his problems would have been over now that he had gotten rid of the wretched monastery- and gained a nice heavy pouch with coins in the process- but then these nice gentlemen had come strolling by. He wasn't used to having money, and the money he had was usually fast spent on gambling in order to win more money. It never seemed to work, but a man had to be persistent to win anything in this life. So who was he to say no when two friendly guards came by and invited him to a nice game of dices? Surely two brutes were no match for a friar, he who could read Latin and count apples. But alas! Somehow he had lost, and when his money was gone he kept loosing coins that he didn't own. Well he didn't own them yet. The plan was to win new coins to pay back the coins he didn't own, and with some luck make a nice little profit. It had all seemed to be going so well for him… Now he found himself trapped, no money, no home, no nothing. If that didn't make a man philosophical then nothing would.

"Where are you taking me?" he moaned "I can pay back! Promise! I can sell my rosary!"

"What rosary? All you got is that wooden cross"

"I got it in my pocket, in my other garb. It's a nice one as well! Pearls made of pure silver… no gold! Gold and silver, and every second pearl got a tiny imprint of the holy virgin…"

"Shut up. We're here" the left guard- who was called Peter Toothless and lisped like a child- said. He pushed a heavy wooden door open and threw Alistair down on the cold stone floor, much like you heave a sack of flour into a store room.

"He's here Sir" he said.

"Good. You can leave"

Alistair lifted his head with some effort, only to see a dark man entirely clothed in leather tower up before him.

"Ahhhhh" he exclaimed, suddenly feeling a rush of relief and gratitude "Sir Guy! I'm so happy to see you! I'm… I need money…"

Brother Alistair was not a clever man. He wasn't even much of a man really, more like a boy who had outgrown himself. Now he gave in to this immense gratitude he felt for being saved so gallantly by Sir Guy. To us who know Gisbourne better it might seem incredibly foolish of Alistair to not be more suspicious towards the dark master of arms- but then again, Alistair was incredibly foolish most of the time. The truth was of course very different from the rosy picture that the friar painted to himself.

Sir Guy had made sure that the two guards that he had sent to trap Brother Alistair weren't only excellent gamblers- but also excellent cheaters just in case. He had given them very explicit orders- skin the brother, skin him into the bones and then make him bet his own bones- and when he has lost them, make him gamble some more. Now the irritating man of the cloth had nothing in this world- he was at the mercy of Sir Guy.

"Alistair, Alistair, Alistair" Guy smirked "I hear you own my men money" he shook his head in a rather amused accusation "Very bad idea to gamble your soul away like that. What would God say?"

Alistair didn't answer, simply lowered his head in shame. The fact was that he had lost his immortal soul in a drunken card game last winter, and considering how his life had turned out he wasn't sure the thugs that got it treated it very well.

"Well" Guy continued "You are in luck"

The friar looked up at the tall man- he seemed huge and very intimidating from Alistair's position on the floor so he rose up. "I am?" he said.

"Yes. You see, you need money, and I, on the other hand, need you"

Alistair suddenly felt a bit uneasy- there was something in Sir Guy's expression that he didn't quite like.

"You know that I like women right?" he said, taking a few steps away from Gisbourne "I mean… Not that there is anything wrong with you. I'm sure the right woman will find you stunning. I just don't do that, I'm married to God"

"God is a woman?" Guy asked, unable to stop himself. He despised this pathetic man, hated him even, but right now he found the fool rather amusing.

"No! Oh blas… blast… blastfemy…" Alistair exclaimed "I'm not even… it's a sin"

"Don't worry" Guy sighed and went over to the window- feeling the still warm sun slowly heating up the leather in his jacket. "I got something else in mind for you. You see, the friars are being released today"

"Ah, how merciful"

"Yes, annoying isn't it? I would have them all hanged. But all the same, this may give me an opportunity to get to my prime target"

"The knight watchman?" Alistair interposed, feeling rather impressed with his own power of deduction.

"The night watchman, yes. You see someone in there is still collaborating with him- and that means that I need to have a man on the inside"

Alistair stared at Gisbourne- something started to make its way through his slow mind- a realisation of what Sir Guy was suggesting to him.

"Surly you're not suggesting that I should…"

"Yes obviously I'm suggesting that!" Sir Guy exclaimed. He was loosing his patience faced with all this dumbness.

"But… I wasn't in the dungeons… they will know I betrayed them! They will… they will…"

"They will what? Make you say a hundred Ave Maria and 50 Padre Domini? Force you to mop the floor with your robe?" Guy sighed "Really you surprise me if you think that I would put you through anything as vile as that"

"Then how…"

"…We will simply have to make it look like we have separated you for some 'special treatment'" Gisbourne smirked. He liked this part, had looked forward to it. Of all the advantages this plan had this might be the most pleasant of them all. "You see, it was you that came with the basket to the shed, thus you're our prime suspect"

Alistair was feeling incredibly uneasy now- he even longed to be back in the hands of the nice guards. He backed off when Gisbourne came towards him- the nobleman paced slowly first and then suddenly took a leap right across the room. The friar didn't have any time to react, simply looked utterly surprised as the fist- wrapped in a black leather gauntlet- hit him right across the face. The punch was forceful enough to make him loose balance, falling down in a sharp burning pain. He moaned as he felt warm blood rippling down to the stone floor- his blood. He had been punched before- men like him always got themselves punched- but it usually stopped when you fell down. Now he could sense how Gisbourne's hand closed around his collar, lifting him up a bit before the second punch broke his nose with a low but unmistakable crack. The beating continued, Brother Alistair was lifted up and thrown back down so many times he lost count. He had little love for his face, but all the same it was his face and he couldn't help to wonder how it would look after this.

"Enough" he panted "Please no more, it's enough…" he said it again and again but the punches kept coming.

Then, to his surprise, it ended as suddenly as it had started.

"Oh Guy!" It was a woman's voice, loud and very pleasant. Alistair rolled around and opened his swollen eyes- defying the pain- and saw two read headed women standing by Sir Guy "Did you really have to do this inside the castle? Look at the floor… Well, I never…" The prettiest of the women seemed to be in command and Alistair wondered if she was lady Gisbourne perhaps.

"Vix" Sir Guy commanded. Hardly his wife then, a servant perhaps "This man needs wine. Make him… travel-ready- just enough to get him out of here. I didn't break any major bones- he should be able to walk"

The plainer woman came up to Alistair with a glass of wine and started to examine his body- pressing on all the places that hurt the most- then she shrugged her shoulders. "Hardly more than a scratch" she concluded.

"Good" Sir Guy said "Now Alistair, this is what we know. The night watchman is slender and small, not a big man. He got a scar on his abdomen from a dagger and a fainter scar on his left arm. I have mapped the sightings and it seems to be some sort of concentration to the Knighton area- the further from Knighton you get, the rarer he are the sightings. It seems the friars communicate with him through pieces of cloth tried to a tree. Now it's up to you to make sure that the next time the cloth is up- then I know about it. Do you understand?"

"Yes well…"

"Well?"

"Well… the question of my debt?"

Sir Guy sighed "Do as you are told and I make sure the debt is under control" he said. "You are mine now, Brother Alistair, don't you ever forget that. Now, leave!"

Alistair scrambled to his feet as fast as he could- rushing out from the room with his hands over his face. It seemed to be torn to shreds, he could feel open flesh wounds and skin that hung loose- everything was swollen and ached yet felt strangely numbed. He must look like a freak, but he tried not to cry- every salty tear burned so bad it made him cry even more. This was his life- he thought to himself as he went looking for the other brothers- and he didn't like it at all.

Sir Guy smirked when he saw the pathetic friar disappear out through the door. This had been refreshing, he felt invigorated and at ease. The sheriff had taken Marian from him- he would have liked to take care of that matter himself, and it made him furious to have lost such a golden opportunity. He didn't mind her getting punished, as long as it wasn't too severe, but it should be him who punished her! That way he had control, she was at his mercy- her destiny in the palm of his hand. The power… But he didn't have that power. The only power he had was this- the power to get the night watchman, catch him once and for all. He would have that sneaky thief tortured and hanged, no, hanging wasn't good enough… There were worse ways to kill a man. Then he would hang his intestines by the door of Locksley Manor and invite all the peasants to feast with him, he thought. He would… he would make sure that Marian was out from the dungeons by then. She should see this, she would be invited. The sheriff would have broken her down, and she would sit by his side subdued- meek and ready for him to pick up the pieces.

These thoughts were grim even for Gisbourne, and in the back of his head a voice called out to get a grip on himself. He was getting obsessed by this, almost fanatic. It hadn't helped to see Marian today, she was still… She was still Marian. And he hated her for making him weak just by the thought of her.

"Gis!" Vix suddenly awoke Guy from his day dreams by making her presence known. They had remained in the room, both the sisters, waiting for his further orders. She looked appealing as ever, he would have liked… But no, there were other things to take care of.

"Go to Marian" he said "Wash her up, get her into suitable clothes. Take care of her valuables and make sure she hasn't brought any weapons of any sort"

"Yes Sir" Vix said and started to follow her sister who went obediently out from the room.

"And Vix" Guy hindered her before she closed the heavy door behind her "I will be expecting you later"

She smiled teasingly and nodded at him. When they had left Sir Guy gazed out of the window- watching the city that was drenched in a soft afternoon light that made it look almost pretty from this bird view. This had turned out to be a good day after all; Marian degraded but not hurt, this friar subdued and exactly where he wanted him. His fist hurt a little from the beating but he didn't mind that. No, all in all, this had turned out not to be a bad day at all for the affluent Sir Guy of Gisbourne.

---

Marian had been taken to the castle's bathroom, a surprisingly light and spacious area just a bit down the corridor from her normal sleeping quarters. It felt strange for her to be locked up like one of Vaysey's birds in a place where she was used to wander freely- at least this part of the castle used to be open for her. Now guards were stationed outside the door and two red haired maids were in the process of unwrapping her, much in the same way that you take a present apart- scrutinizing every inch to make sure they didn't miss anything. What were they expecting to find? Money? Weapons? Or poison perhaps- so that she could die like Cleopatra, escaping her punishment in one final mockery.

"The dress is ruined" the plainer of the girls mumbled, as she carefully folded the outer garb together and put it on a chair. "You can reuse the cloth perhaps"

The other woman laughed- a loud and clinging noise that filled the room and bounced off the walls in an echo that made the laughter seem to be sung in parts.

"But she won't need them Katie!" she smiled "And we don't need them"

Marian stood in her linen under dress now, her posture erect and proud despite the degrading situation. She was distracted by memories from the day before- Robin's presence in the crowd had brought them out from the layers of pain and fear. It had been a nice supper, the kind of supper that she had expected from her life once upon a time. Her adored father, the love of her life and his very best friend- it was a picture of a time that never came, a glimpse of something from a fairy world that briefly reflected itself into a single precious moment. This world did its best to show her what she missed out on, what they had given up with the choices that they made. Everything is a choice- her mother had told her that, and now she passed on as some sort of legacy- but her mother never told her that for every choice there is also a price to pay. For every choice there is a sacrifice.

She missed Robin. Oh how she missed him… But that wouldn't help her now- there was nothing she could do about it anyway. She forced herself to give some attention to the two women that shared this space with her. Odd maids, oddly dressed, odd behaviour. Vix and Katie Butcher they were called, Vix was the castle's matron if Marian remembered it correctly.

"I'm mad at the sun" she mumbled, turning towards Katie "Does that make me insane?"

The pale little woman shrugged her shoulders "No, but it won't do you any good" she answered.

Marian gave away a bitter little laughter. She might as well try to turn off the sun- she didn't have any control over anything now.

"I'm mad at the children too" she continued "For singing and laughing"

"They mocked you" Katie was letting Marian's braids out- depriving her of this proof of her rank. No one could arrange their hair like that without help from a maid.

"Never mind that" Marian said "I'm mad because they are happy. I'm mad because they are young and innocent. I'm mad…" she sighed, suddenly realising how slowly Katie's hands moved. She was distracted- lingered with her fingers loosely holding a half-untangled lock of brown hair as if she had forgotten what she was doing. Marian turned around and met the maid's eyes- big and curious as they studied her and waited patiently for the rest of the sentence. "I'm mad at the world for not crying for me" Marian finished. "Silly isn't it? Are you the one called Katie?"

"Yes" Katie said and started to get on with her chore again. Her sister sat in the window and listened with half an ear- enjoying an apple while she did as little work as possible.

"Where are you from Katie?"

"Roxdale" Katie said "And other places. London"

"Roxdale!? Then you know Allan-a-Dale perhaps?" Marian exclaimed "I mean, I think a man called Allan-a-Dale is from Roxdale. Do you know him" She could feel how Katie tensed at the mentioning of Allan's name.

"Yes. A little" she said.

"Allan!" Vix suddenly gave them some of her brief attention "He's a scoundrel. We wouldn't know him well, would we Katie?"

"No. Not well" Katie agreed. She had finished the hair and suddenly discovered something around Marian's neck- a beautiful gold chain. Now it was Marian's turn to tense. Damn it! She had forgotten to leave the ring at home! She could feel her heartbeat increasing- a fast throbbing that made her feel dizzy and exhausted. This was bad.

Katie glanced over at her sister before she lifted the object over Marian's head. Vix was preoccupied with something more interesting on the yard- carefully throwing the rest of the apple in an attempt to hit a specific target. It seemed that she failed, for she picked up the basket with apples and gave it another try- laughing silently at this amusing little game. The chain around Marian's neck had a ring on it, a beautiful expensive gold ring. Katie knew what things were worth- people on her side of the law, well the side that she usually was at, considered knowing the value of things rather necessary. And even though this was a plain and simple ring it was obviously not cheap.

"Pretty" she said, her voice hushed. It struck Marian that she didn't show the ring to the other woman- instead she seemed to be eager to hide it from her.

"Just a ring" Marian said "Will you do something for me Katie?"

"What?"

"Don't give it to the sheriff or Guy… Just… I rather you keep it" Marian said and gave the maid a pleading look. Katie watched her for while- then nodded and put the ring and the chain in a pouch that hung on her belt. It pained Marian to see it disappear like this, her and Robin's ring… It was probably gone forever now. The ring that he had bought to her so many years ago, that he'd taken with him to the holy land and then returned to her. Now it was in the pocket of a castle maid. She would sell it or have it melted down perhaps- but that was still much better than Vaysey or Gisbourne finding it.

"This takes too long!" Vix suddenly exclaimed. "Take off the last clothes- we got this simple wool dress for you"

Marian took this opportunity to keep some limited sort of pride and lifted the dress over her head so that she stood naked and shivering in the middle of the room. It would be better to just ignore her bare skin- pretending that she was dressed in silk and velvet. Then she pulled down the wool dress that had been chosen for her- the simple kind of garb that the lowest servants would wear. It was rough and scratched her skin, annoyingly itchy and pricking. The waiting guards opened the door as soon as Vix called out to them- then twisted a rope around Marian's sore wrists once again. They were happy to finally lead the rather shaggy noble woman down to the dungeons where she belonged.

When they had left Vix turned to her sister with an unmistakably victorious expression in her beautiful features.

"You saw that!" he exclaimed "You always see everything so you must have!"

Katie didn't say anything, but it was true what Vix said. She had seen it.

"She is small and slender, well she is a woman" Vix continued "It fits! And then there are the scars. One on her left arm and then another one on her abdomen. Katie!" Now Vix looked so excited she almost jumped up and down "There is no night watchman at all! It has been a night watchwoman all along!!!"

* * *

So that was another chapter done. Hope you liked it. Plz comment. :-) 


	6. Here comes the rain

Thanx for the comments on chapter 5. This chapter is rather sad I'm afraid... I hope you will endure through the angst. :-p

Comments are welcome... More then welcome- they will be invited in for cofee and swedish cookies even. ;-)

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Chapter 6: Here comes the rain

The day of Marian's trial was that kind of day that takes over everything in the days leading up to it- like Christmas Eve or the day of a wedding. It was the kind of day that changes the perception of time- a passed day wasn't one day more, but rather one day less- and it was a time of waiting. Marian waited in the castle dungeons, not mistreated but cold and scared all the same. She hated herself for being so weak- every hour made it more apparent how much she was a noble woman at her core, comfortable and spoiled. She felt bored, left to do nothing but wait and ponder, and she slept more than seemed reasonable. The days were only slightly lighter that the nights with the sun shining in from the roof window and painting white squares on the floor. In Sherwood Forest the outlaws were waiting as well. Robin was silent most of the time- sat leaned against a tree, frowning as he got lost in a vain attempt to find a solution. It felt dishonest to laugh near the brooding Robin, dishonest to talk or make sudden noises. The outlaw camp was much like a wake or a funeral, where everyone tip toes around and talks with hushed voices as if the dead might be disturbed.

And then came the day before the day before The Day, followed by the day before The Day, and finally the sun dawned on The Day they had all been waiting for. The squares on the floor of Marian's prison cell were faint and blurred, and when she looked up she could se a grey sky and feel tiny drops of sweet water falling on her titled head. The outlaws woke to the rain as well- it rippled down and made a soft sedating noise as it touched the still primarily green leaves of the ancient trees. They went into Nottingham in a troubled silence, dressed in cloaks that made an acceptable disguise now that everyone would wear them against the weather.

As they passed the hanged man's hill just outside the town an eerie shiver seemed to go trough the retinue. The old gallows were only used for hangings that the sheriff couldn't be bothered with these days- it had become such a disgrace to hang there that the families of the condemned paid good money for a city hanging. Even so, all hanged people were still buried in the unsanctified ground around the old gallows- nourishing the earth with their decaying bodies and making the surface bumpy from unmarked graves. Usually the old gallows were empty but today a man hung from a snare on one of the beams. It seemed to be a careless hanging- left there not so much in order to be intimidating but rather because the people in charge were lazy, or had forgotten all about it. Will and Allan recognised the body as soon as they saw it, realising that it was the man that Katie had used to get them in. Was the old boozer hanging there because of them? Surly he had committed crimes in his days, but there were no way of knowing and the coincidence was creepy to say the least. The two outlaws had been minutes from a hanged man's death themselves, and now Allan avoided Will's glances and tried his best to ignore the accusing "Allan, Katie did this!" that fell from the younger man's lips.

"Marian will not hang" Robin suddenly exclaimed, making everyone aware of the silence that had been lying like a blanket over the friends "I will not let that happen. If it comes to that it will be better to run than try to reason with me"

The outlaw leader had been thinking during the waiting days, there had been little else to do. He might not be able to stop Marian from taking the fall, but he could make sure that she didn't fall all the way down the snare. His men had a right to know how he felt about this.

"Of course not master" Much said "No one will hang. And no one will run"

The rain made everything feel heavy in the narrow streets of Nottingham- the poorly maintained roofs seemed to bend under the pressure of the grey sky and the streets were crowded and smelled of wet wool cloth. In the square carpenters were still working on a small stage for the trial and curios townspeople circled around- trying to get some gossip off the guards.

"They are excited!" Much exclaimed "About the trial! I can't… It's appalling… Those… the things she did for them, and now they… I will never understand people!"

"Much shut up!" Allan gave the manservant a small shuffle, making Robin turn his attention to them.

"No, let him talk. It is appalling" he said, then sighed and watched the people- his precious populous- with a sting of bitterness. "They don't know though, do they? What she did? She is just a pretty noble woman who has fallen from grace"

"Actually she's quite popular" Allan interposed "You should hear the stories in the taverns. Most people like her"

"People like sad stories!" Robin's voice sounded edgy and irritated "They like beauty and drama and tragedy as long as it's not their problem. They scorn the sheriff behind his back but still watch the hangings in fascination. They would see us all hang and then make us into a myth, passing it down from generation to generation but never dare to learn anything from it. And you know why? Because it might require sacrifice, because choosing to do the right thing comes with a price" Robin shook his head- then lowered his voice as he threw out a final hushed judgement over humanity "They are all cowards!"

The outlaws looked at their leader in stunned silence.

"They're not all bad mind you" Allan said.

"Being poor doesn't automatically make you a good person" Djaq watched Robin with the compassionate look that she saved for situations like this; when someone she held dear needed comfort "Don't judge them so hard"

"I'm sorry" Robin sighed as he realised his words had been too harsh "I will not"

---

Vix Butcher stood behind Sir Guy on the platform, seeing the scene from the side but close up. It made her feel almost a part of it- her odd angle gave her a certain intimacy with the picture. She let her eyes linger for a while on Sir Guy's back- the broad shoulders clothed in back leather, his firm little bum, the back curls on his neck... Vix enjoyed bodies- she watched without shame, gave in to lust and craving and never asked God of forgiveness for being a woman of the flesh. Her attitude had gained her much in this world, enjoying her lot in life but always with her own interest at heart. Some might call it selfish but to her it was simply life wisdom. You don't grieve. You don't look back. You don't regret. Now she looked down at herself with satisfaction; the perfect curves dressed in purple and yellow cloth that strained around her chest and hips, the smooth white skin. She didn't use jewels- the ones she could afford were too subtle for her to enjoy them- but a small silver chain still hung around the slender neck and disappeared in between her breasts. This wasn't a jewel. It was something far crueler than that, a malice that she might not have to use but still carried. In her well hidden cleavage a small silver bottle rested, disguised as a simple cross, and inside it enough poison to kill ten fully grown men. The man that employed her encouraged her to carry it, knowing that employing Vix Butcher was much like setting a dog loose. You could tell her to get a job done- but the way in witch she got it done and the exact results were beyond the employer's control. Thus the man that employed the services of Vix Butcher had told her to bring the bottle of poison, and if she felt it necessary to use it on someone to get the work done, then so be it.

"Vix?" Sir Guy turned around to face her and she put on her most teasing, vaguely erotic smile- much in the same way as another woman might put on a hat to please a man.

"Yes Gis, how may I humour my lord?" she said.

Guy smirked at her words. "Tell me, how have Lady Marian taken to this captivity?"

"Screaming and kicking like a baby. And oh the whining my lord! You wouldn't believe how all her graces fell as soon as we removed those fancy clothes"

It was a mistake. Vix knew it as soon as the words fell from her mouth and she saw the sudden change in Sir Guy, how his body grew tense and his features cold.

"You lie" he spat out "Marian would not act like that! All I asked of you was to tell me the truth, yet you lied even though you would gain nothing from it! Why do all women lie!?"

"I was… it was a joke my lord, a simple amusement over a fallen enemy. I didn't mean to offend you…" Vix cursed herself. How did she turn this around? "I am sorry my lord, women lie because it's our legacy. We still carry the sins of Eve in our chests and we need guidance"

This seemed to calm Sir Guy slightly, but he still appeared to be upset with her.

"That is a flimsy excuse" he said "Go tend to your chores, I'm sure they don't all involve my bed"

Vix felt angry with herself when she left Sir Guy. He would forget it all soon enough, but it always annoyed her to fail like this. She didn't have loyalties- she didn't bear any grudge against this Lady Marian or feel any compassion for Gisbourne- but she wanted to do what profited her the most, and this didn't do her any good at all. Vix knew the power of knowledge, so she decided to put this to her archives. Sir Guy apparently carried tender feelings for Lady Marian Fitzwater. She was good enough to read people to understand as much. Sir Guy was in love with Marian. Sir Guy hated the night watchman. Lady Marian _was_ The Night Watchman! Slowly a beaming smile started to grow in Vix's face, spreading as a mayflower opening to the morning sun. What a lovely tangled mess the sheriff's master of arms had gotten himself into! And he didn't even know it… Once again Vix Butcher felt pleased with herself as she contemplated how she could best use this information to get what she wanted. Knowledge was power, and it needed to be released exactly in the right moment. For now, she would simply wait, watch and bide her time…

---

The stage was ready within half an hour. The outlaws watched in awe as the workers made the setting ready; a small forge had been put to the left of the stage and there was a sort of podium that rose above the rest of the scene.

"What is the forge for?" Much asked, sounding nervous and worried "I mean… What are they going to do with it?"

"Torture" Robin answered. His body was tense and he clenched his jaws so hard the muscle tension could be seen under the skin, yet his voice sounded strangely detached when he spoke.

"Master, surely not…" Much swallowed hard as Robin's dark gaze landed on him "I hate the sheriff" he finished.

Then the crowd fell silent, the mumbling of hundreds of voices was replaced by random chattering and sharp shushes as sheriff Vaysey made his way onto the stage. The sheriff was dressed in black and his little mink fur as he went up to the podium and sat down comfortably under the small roof that shielded him from the rain. It was still a dusky and wet day- the swift movements of the grey clouds made everything look grim and sinister. And then there was Marian.

Much held his eyes firmly on Robin as he watched his lady enter the stage with her hands bound behind her back. She didn't look like she'd been harmed yet- Marian held her head high and walked with steady dignified steps.

"She looks fine" Much said without getting even the briefest glance from Robin. "Master?"

A woman turned around and shushed at him, giving him an irritated look for disturbing the entertainment.

"Dear people of Nottingham" Vaysey addressed the public "We have come here today for an open trial. I'm pleased to present to you Lady Marian Fitzwater against… well the state it seems. And we all know that means me" he smirked "The crime at hand is outlaw collaboration. Lady Marian stands here accused of helping the infamous Night Watchman- a rogue wanted for theft and…" He looked a bit puzzled and turned to Sir Guy "Gisbourne what is this Night Watchman wanted for exactly?"

"Theft my lord"

"Ah… Well theft then- and general roguish behaviour just for the records" he clenched his hands together in a joyful gesture and then rubbed them in a way that looked excited and full of expectation. Sir Guy turned away from him unable to hide his disgust for the man who employed him.

"How do you respond to these accusations Lady Marian?" the sheriff inquired.

"If helping the night watchman to feed the poor is a crime, then I plead guilty"

"Ah. Good, that saves us time" the sheriff said and lifted the cup of wine that a servant held to him. "What exactly did you do?"

"I supplied him"

"Aha! Not very wise of you" Vaysey smacked his lips and shook his head at her "Tell me, did you see him up close then?"

"He was masked. We didn't talk"

"Hm. You gave food to a man in a mask that you didn't talk to- how very naïve of you. Well that puts me in a rather bad position you see"

"How so?" Marian turned to him now, for a moment she let her proud face give away a bit to the fear and distress that she felt.

"It means you don't know much my dear" he exclaimed "But don't worry, your confession has not been in vain. We will get this night watchman. Hum, hum, hum… I will find a way… Aha!"

This 'aha' caused a shiver to run down Much's spine where he stood beside his master in the crowds. Robin seemed disconnected from the world- the old familiar fog flickered behind his eyes making them dusky and unpredictable. Much knew his master struggled to keep this impulsive darkness under control- forcing back the berserker rage that sometimes took over and deprived him of all sanity. It scared Much to see how close to the surface this demon in Robin was now, it pounded on his shields and tried to tear down the walls that his master built to protect the world from himself. The 'aha' that fell from the sheriff's lips made Robin twitch, the demon winning some ground and moving its frontier closer and closer. Much exchanged a look with Little John- silently forming a pact behind Robin's back.

"Here is my solution" Vaysey continued his speech "In the power invested in me la-di-la-di-da, you all know the jargon, Lady Marian Fitzwater is found guilty as charged and will be punished by the pillory…"

"The pillory!" Much exclaimed "That is not so bad master" The pillory was a wooden structure that locked your head and hands and was commonly used for minor crimes.

"… She will spend time in the pillory by the following schedule, starting tomorrow:" the sheriff continued, his vicious smirk growing wider as he did so "From sun-up to sun-down, every day of the week save Sunday, until such time as the villain called the Night Watchman is caught or caught dead. No water or food will pass by her lips during the day hours, and the time in between will be well spent in the comfort of the castle dungeons"

A stunned silence lay over the crowds when Vaysey's conviction had fallen upon the pretty noble woman on the stage, leaving the sheriff to watch them with smug, self-content victory painted all over his features.

"That is not the pillory!" Much exclaimed "That is… that is torture… And master! What can we do now? I mean… She can't… The night watchman can't be caught or caught dead! It's impossible! The winter will come and she will die! Master she will die!"

"Much!" Robin suddenly turned to his manservant. His face was cloaked in white despair- only the eyes looked as two pitch black holes in witch Robin struggled not to loose balance and fall down "This doesn't help" he said "There will be a way, there must be… There is always a way! Just… just be quiet Much!"

"Robin, look" Will made the outlaws turn their attention to the stage again, seeing how Vaysey had stepped down to the forge and was heating something in the flames. It looked as a stick of some kind.

"What is that?" Allan said without expecting an answer. Much and Little John and formed a silent pact once again, watching Robin closely as he frowned his forehead at the sheriff's actions.

"There is one more detail" Vaysey said and stepped over with the object to Marian. It was glowing white from the fire, the iron hot enough for a smith to work on, and the word 'crowbar' started to run trough the masses- it passed from mouth to mouth in hushed whispers. "This is a crowbar" the sheriff said "It is thief's tool- witch makes it rather appropriate I think. It also forms a beautiful 'V' as in Vaysey" he smiled at the people that looked up to him in different kinds of anticipation "Gisbourne will you lay lady Marian's shoulder bare for me, hm? Pretty, pretty please"

Gisbourne stepped up to Marian but he didn't look like he was enjoying this. Much held his eyes on Robin as Sir Guy ripped up the cloth in Marian's dress with a dagger, displaying a patch of soft white skin over her left shoulder. This wasn't good, the demon in Robin won more ground, moved its frontier even closer. Much could see the black fog taking over his master's gaze- what was before a mist that came and went now seemed to cloud away every bit of recognition in his eyes. He was loosing it.

"Hold her" Vaysey said to Gisbourne "I think you'll like that, hm? Holding the pretty lady close to your manly parts while I make her scream and cry"

Gisbourne didn't look like ha was going to like it but took a firm grip around Marian all the same. Vaysey swung the crowbar casually in his hand while studying Lady Marian's skin.

"Well then shall we do this before it gets cold perhaps?" he said and smiled. Marian looked afraid now, unable to uphold her pride, but she didn't say a word. She didn't plead or beg, just faced this situation with a determined, brave silence. There was no scorn amongst the people watching any longer- just pity and some amazement as they waited for what was coming. Sheriff Vaysey took the crowbar in a firm grip and watched it almost regretfully before he shoved it into Marian's shoulder with an awful sizzle.

There was a scream- a pitching scream in terrible, agonizing pain as the hot metal scorched Marian's skin. It cut through Nottingham as a dagger, seemed to rip the world apart. It made Sir Guy shut his eyes and holding her almost tenderly as she fell into darkness- fainting from the horrible pain. Much watched Robin's expression, saw him open his mouth to scream out, saw him get lost into this desperate nightmare, saw the demon eating away the last of his wits.

"Little John!" he said, and before Robin had a chance to react there was a low thumping sound as Little John's staff hit him hard against the back of his head. The outlaw leader's body went limp by the blow, hung helpless between Much and Allan who upheld it the best they could.

"Why did you do that for?" Allan exclaimed "He already had a headache. Look at him now, poor sod"

"Sorry"

"No don't be sorry. It had to be done" Much said then turned to the scene where Marian was being carried or dragged back into the dungeons. "I hate the sheriff!"

Vaysey stood to face the people once more.

"And that was it for today my dear populous. The lady had been marked" he said "And oh… for those of you that have come here from the countryside I have decided to put up a special fee, just for the day…"

Damn…

"… Just a reasonable little sum. It will be collected by the south gate witch is the only one that will be open today…"

Damn!

"…Sir Guy of Gisbourne will be overlooking the collecting, making sure everyone pays…"

_Damn!_

"… And just for the record, extra guards will be put up to make sure no one escapes, and if anyone is still on the streets by nightfall, the same rules as usual applies. The rule concerning vagrants and beggars that is…"

_Damn! Damn! Damn!!!!!_

"… Very well. Hope you have all enjoyed the day. Farewell"

With those words Vaysey disappeared into the castle under cheerful humming noises that Allan recognised as being the tune about Marian and the rope. 'How to catch a lady' had become a rather fashionable song in Nottingham lately.

"What do we do now!?" Much exclaimed, looking at Robin's sagging body, the head that hung lifeless against his chest. "We can't get out! The sheriff's men will be everywhere for sure, it's a trap"

"What's with this negativity Much!" Allan said "We can't get out until tomorrow, that's all. We'll go to 'Salty Boar Tavern'- they got a cellar where we can hide"

"A cellar! We'll get trapped!"

"No we won't. Listen, the salty boar would never help the sheriff, they would loose all their customers"

"So we're safe because they're dishonest" Djaq smiled "Ironic"

The sky above was getting darker by the minute and the faint rippling rain became big heavy drops that started to pour down on the city. The crowds shattered, people started to take shelter in houses and crouching together anywhere they could. Little John lifted Robin as the outlaws rushed through the muddy streets- no stones paved the duskiest alleys, and the rain made everything into a thick brown porridge that sucked you down as if tiny grabbing hands hugged the soft leather shoes. The outlaws felt heavy from the soaking wet wool cloaks when they finally reached Salty Boar, and made their way down into the cellar. It was damp and dark but in between the supplies laid blankets from thugs that had hid there before them. Suddenly Daq gave out a small shout.

"Where is Will!?" she exclaimed, and looked around the dusky space that smelled of earth and wool. Much lifted the light that he held in his hand and made the shadows dance around the sacks and barrels.

"Not here" he said "Who saw him last? Did he follow us here?"

"No" Djaq shook her head in silent desperation "I don't think. I can't remember! We can't leave him behind"

"No one…" Little John stated and put down a moaning Robin on the soft earthy floor "… will be left behind"

Allan sighed and put a hand on Djaq's shoulder. "Don't worry" he said "I'll go look. I'm already soaking wet anyway"

"I'm coming too" Djaq looked determined "Two is better. We split up"

Allan nodded at her. She would do as she wished anyway- the Saracen woman was rather headstrong. One might even say a bit bossy. They left Much and little John to tend to Robin- who was waking up with a splitting headache and was forced to relive the entire trial as it came back to him in bits and pieces.

---

Allan was wet. He was wet and the purpose of this hopeless search for Will seemed to elude him more for every minute. Now he stood in a narrow alleyway that was covered by the roofs of the houses that squeezed together around it, almost leaning on each other for support as two drunken chums.

"And I thought it might be difficult to get you alone"

Allan spun around at the sound of the low neutral voice that came from behind him. Katie stood cloaked in a blue hood that left most of her face shadowed- her eyes only barely visible. Now she pushed it back, displaying a mane of red curls that twisted and twirled down over her skinny shoulders. The bones lay so close to her skin, he remembered with an unintentional shiver running down his spine. She looked frail as if the wind might break her where she stood, yet it didn't move her; Katie treated the world around her as if she didn't quite belong to it.

"Is it true what people say of this Robin Hood?" she asked. Allan realised he had been staring with his mouth open- looking rather sheepish no doubt- and forced himself to get his act together.

"Well most of it" he said "I mean his bow isn't enchanted, or carved out of the key bones of fallen Saracens, or anything- but most of it is pretty accurate, yeah"

"'Pretty accurate'" Katie smiled faintly "Do you mean that in the Allan-sense or in the sense of honest men?"

"In the Allan-sense it would all be completely accurate" Allan smirked a little, trying to use his cheeky charm on this woman that seemed completely unmoved by it.

"I suppose. And now Allan-a-Dale works for this man? However did that happen?"

"I sort of stumbled over it…" Allan fell silent and interrupted his own story when he saw the look in Katie's face as she scrutinized him. It was strange, not the blank detached gaze that people had come to associate with Katie Butcher. Instead her eyes were filled with curiosity and- Allan scanned his mind for a suitable word- she seemed to be oddly proud over something.

"Well" she said, before that brief moment of warmth faded from her features "It seems you have become the man I always knew you could be Allan-a-Dale"

The alley fell silent around them- as if the noises from the town suddenly faded away, leaving them alone in the world. Allan felt lost for words- simply studied the pale face that once again was blank and indifferent to the world. For the first time in his life someone seemed to be proud of him, and the experience was so strange that it completely threw him off his feet. Why would Katie say that? Whatever emotions he had expected from her, pride was certainly not on the list.

"I have something for you" Katie finally broke the silence. She changed the subject in a way that made Allan feel irrationally annoyed with her.

"What, you stole something from the castle?" he said, silently cursing himself for the accusation that was hidden behind his words. He stole from the castle, he reminded himself. She was no worse than him in that respect. Why did he feel mad all of a sudden? His guard was up; in vain trying to shield him from her influence.

"No. It was given to me from the prisoner, Lady Marian"

Allan's interest shifted to the object that Katie put in his hand- twitching little at the sensation of her cool soft fingers to his palm. It was a ring, a heavy gold ring with words inscribed on the surface- small enough to be a woman's ring so Katie's story might be true. He twisted it, letting his fingertips follow the letters that was nothing more than meaningless symbols to him.

"What does it say?" he wondered "Is it French?" It would make little difference to him what language it was- Allan had never been anything but a rogue with a pauper's lack of education and couldn't read even his own name.

"It's Latin" Katie said- then fell silent. She wondered if she should tell Allan what she had figured out.

"Why do you give me this? Did you steal it from Marian? She will want it back, mind you!"

"She gave it to me" Katie shrugged "Listen, I can't read much. But that one word is the same as the holy virgin's name"

"Oh it's religious then. It's probably for cheating in church, like a crib or something… Those nobles are so sly…"

"No I think not" Katie continued "Marian's name might be written like that in Latin too. Then this word…" she pointed at a small word that appeared on both sides of the name "… I think that could mean 'and', or something similar. Then I think the last word it's a name as well- the small words connect them, the names. And because there is an 'and' on both sides the sentence never ends, it's a never ending loop. It goes on forever- for all eternity. Silly and romantic- so I reckon it's an engagement ring" Katie concluded looking aloof and uninterested "And since she hides it I reckon there is a reason for keeping it a secret. So if what I have heard of her and Robin is true then… Well" She shrugged her shoulders, leaving this subject for Allan to figure out if she was right.

"What! He never said anything about that… Sneaky bastard…" Allan exclaimed shaking his head at the perfect gold ring in his hand "Engaged…"

"I guess he wanted to keep it to himself. It's sad" Katie said, making Allan look at her again. Sad? Did she think it was sad, or was it nothing more than a neutral comment? "I need to go" she continued and turned to leave.

"Katie, wait!"

"What?"

"I just…" Allan searched for the right words but it was so hard. This gesture- returning the ring to what she thought was the right owner- it was such a delicate thing to do. She had been clever enough to figure it out and thoughtful enough to return it. It made his heart leap to see her like this- her soft side flashing through the façade as a well kept secret. He had used the word 'obsession' when he described his old feelings towards her to Djaq. Now he could feel some of that magic pushing through once again, enchanting him where they stood in the narrow Nottingham alley- a noble outlaw with a price on his head and a castle maid. She was a mystery still, even more so now than ever perhaps. He wanted to ask her out, to beg her to laugh again. He would like to make a new attempt, get a chance to do everything right all the way through. This time he would protect her- wed her and provide for her. Yet he couldn't do any of that, he had a responsibility to be careful these days and Katie was still a threat- still someone not to trust. He wouldn't mind risking himself, but he couldn't risk Robin and the gang.

"What is it Allan?" Katie asked where she stood partly turned away from him.

"Thank you" he sighed "Robin will be glad for this- thank you Katie. I think…" he hesitated. He wanted to say that she had become the woman he always knew she could become, return the favour- but it would be a lie and she would see through that "I think you could become the woman I always knew you could be. Still." he finished the sentence with a resigned look. He would have liked to move her, but her face was blank as always. She nodded and then left him standing alone in the alley with the heavy ring in his palm- feeling confused and shattered.

You didn't trust the Butcher sisters- any of the Butcher sisters- even if you did love them. Especially- he corrected himself with a bitter grin- if you loved them. The thought didn't come as a shock to him. The tremor of the words- the fact that he used 'love' so lightly to describe his feelings- simply passed through him as a resignation to reality. He could almost see young Allan stand by his side with his hands on his hips, shrugging as he said: "Crap, looks like she trapped you again mate". Now he held Robin and Marian's ring in his hand- it was heavy and expensive with the noble names forming an eternal loop in a pathetic romantic gesture; '_Robin and Marian and Robin and Marian and…_' It was the way of noblemen- how they celebrated the glory of love- yet it was all in vain. Marian was imprisoned, Robin was outlawed. It seemed to Allan like malice always won the war, no matter how many battles it lost on the way.

---

Djaq found them. She wished she hadn't but perhaps it was her own fault rushing out to look for him like this. She had been almost fanatic in her pursuit, covering most of the town bit by bit- searching every shadowed hiding place and constantly asking people for forgiveness for her intrusion. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry', Djaq seemed to be saying nothing else. The world lost their meaning, became a noise that she automatically let out whenever a pair of strange eyes met hers. She had almost given up when she dared a look closer to the castle, in the working space around the back that should be empty in this rain. Crouched between Nottingham Castle and the thick city Wall were a space where the castle staff went about their daily shores. Maids washed the cloth here and hung it on long wooden racks, and there were roofs that sheltered working spaces for kitchen staff and craftsmen. It was under one of these workspaces- not a shed as much as a wall-less structure consisting only of some supporting beams and roof- that she saw them. Will Scarlett towered up over the colourful woman that faced him, holding his hands around her shoulders and talking with a soft voice that was too low for Djaq to make out any words. Djaq would recognise Vix Butcher anywhere, and now the red headed woman smiled as she leaned her hand on Wills chest and gave out very flirtatious little giggles. They stood close to each other, a proximity that seemed almost vulgar to Djaq. Then something changed between them, a sudden electricity as Vix started to stroke Will with swift, determined movements. The boy fell silent, looked scared but fascinated, and then he dared to make a move. Djaq could only look in despair at the scene that seemed to play in slow-motion before her- letting the irrational tears mix with the rain that poured down on her as she watched.

The couple's bodies got entangled in a mess of cloth and slender limbs as they gave in to a passionate, hungry kiss that seemed to go on forever.

* * *

So that was chapter 6. Hope you enjoyed it.

Love/ Trix


	7. Retribution

Right people, I'm sorry about the ridiculously long wait, I had the cahpter ready and all, I'm just lazy... Sorry...

On the brigtht side this chapter is long (is that good news? Might as well be bad news, depending on how much you like the story ;)). It is also a chapter that I really like myself!

Thnx to the people that commented on the last chapter. Many comments generally makes me update sooner so I would recommend commenting if you want a fast update. ;)

* * *

Chapter 7: Retribution

Robin came to his senses eventually, lifted his attention to the room around him and looked puzzled when he realised that he didn't know where he was.

"This appears to be some sort of cellar" he said, then added "… situated under a tavern" when the noise of drunken singing leaked through the 'roof'.

"Salty Boar" Much explained "We have to stay here tonight master"

Robin nodded absentmindedly and started to pace around the small area. It didn't matter much to him where they were or why, he felt confident that his men had it under control. He had tried to shield himself against the trial- thinking that he would manage whatever the day brought to him- but to see her like that... He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to suppress the image of Marian's bare shoulder glowing white and vulnerable as the sheriff shoved the crowbar into it. His head hurt from Little John's staff and things only seemed to be getting worse- possible escape routes being blocked off before he even had time to locate them.

"What do we do now master?" Much asked carefully.

"What can we do?" Robin said with a resigned sigh "We can't save her- she wouldn't come if we tried"

"Well, we could hit her in the head and carry her out"

Everyone's attention turned to the hatchthat led down to the cellar, where a soaking Allan was crawling through and landed on the earthy floor with a wet sucking noise. Djaq came close behind, silently slipping away to a dark corner and instantly being engulfed by the shadows.

"Didn't find Will, sorry" Allan added.

"No more hitting people in the head" Robin said rather irritated, then added a bit softer "How do you expect me to think if you keep hitting me with that staff John? And I'm sure Will is fine Allan"

"I was hit in the head all the time when I was a lad, never did me any harm" Little John mumbled and went over to sit down on a large chest.

"There will absolutely not be any more hitting anyone over the head with a staff of any kind. Not even a soft staff. And that is final"

"Yes master" Little John's mock impression of Much forced a smile from Robin's lips, and Allan took the opportunity to walk up to him.

"Listen I met Katie Butcher" he said "She gave me this, said Marian gave it to her" He placed the gold ring in Robin's palm, saw how the outlaw-leader twitched as if the metal burned him. "She said it was an engagement ring" Allan continued "Yours as a matter of fact- was she right?"

Robin's deep blush was obvious even in the dim light from the candles "Well…" he mumbled "sort of". There had never seemed t be a good enough time to tell the others about this- it was the kind of thing that needed to be declared, not simply tucked in behind a careless 'by the way…'.

"Oh, Master!" Much exclaimed at the revelation, putting considerable force behind every syllable as he spoke and sounding almost out of breath "I'm just… Congratulations!" Then he seemed to become aware of the strained almost surreal atmosphere in the room as everyone looked at him "or… My condolences… perhaps" he added.

The hatch opened with a creak and Will heaved himself down into the room, grabbing the edge and swinging his young body down with a low thump as he hit the ground. A puff of warm, smoky tavern air made its way into the cellar together with roaring laughers and a brief flash of daylight- it felt almost surprising to them that it was light outside still. It must be afternoon, but in this dark damp cellar with the muffled noises from the tavern above it seemed like time was hardly real at all. It was always that time just after midnight when all decent people had strayed home- leaving the ale houses to be taken over by the sins of the night and the nymphs and satyrs that inhabited the shadow realms.

"We were looking for you" Allan said.

"I'm here now, sorry. I got distracted" Will frowned a bit at the loud rather bitter snort that came from the corner where Djaq sat- for a moment feeling ashamed as if he had done something he shouldn't. The thought tainted the wonderful tingling lightness that seemed to surround him like a halo, and he resolutely shut the Saracen girl out from his mind.

Robin sighed and watched the ring in his hand. "It was kind of Katie to bring this" he said "She seems sweet"

"Well…" Allan smiled rather sheepishly "I'm not being funny but 'sweet' isn't really the right word…"

"Then what is the right word Allan?!" Will called out. He sounded upset- the voice suddenly coated with accusation- and a room full of puzzled outlaws went silent at the outburst.

"Cunning" Allan answered finally "I think she might be rather cunning"

"Cunning is evil!" Will hissed "You said yourself not to trust her"

"I also said not to trust Vix, I'm glad you listened!" There was a suffocating tension in the cellar - the air seemed heavy and sparkling as a piece of amber rubbed to a cat skin.

"I met Vix…"

"Oh you did, did you?"

"I think you are wrong about her. What has Vix done anyway?"

"And what has Katie done!?" Allan bit his lip a tad too late, realising that his anger had ventured him out onto very deep water. There were a considerable amount of answers to the question 'What has Katie done?' that wouldn't help his augmenting at all.

"She killed a man, one would think that is bad enough" Will said. The words made Allan freeze, suddenly feeling a rush of panic. What had Vix talked to Will about?

"Killed…"

"That old boozer! He hanged remember!?"

Allan felt himself relax, almost giving out a loud sigh of relief. "Oh that… We don't know if that was her fault"

"She sacrificed him. He hanged. I don't like her"

"Be quiet!" Robin yelled "This is not important! I need to think…" Then he started his restless pacing again, the outlaws following his every move. He stopped after a while- turned to them with determination in the blue eyes where reflections from the candles danced like fireflies. "An eye for an eye" he said "We are going into the castle and Katie is going to help us"

"What?" Much said- looking confused.

"It's from the bible. An eye for an eye"

"Well, the Bible also says to turn the other cheek mind you" Allan interposed "A bit contradictory come to think of it… God must have had a hard time making up his mind"

"Perhaps you should refrain yourself from scorning your God until after we have pulled this off?" Djaq's voice seemed almost alien when she spoke- coming from within the shadows and still sounding surprisingly clear- as if it didn't belong to the scene at all.

"Djaq is right, stop pissing off God" Will said and looked over at Allan with a gaze that seemed rather hostile "Especially since we are all going to die"

"Will…"

"I'm just saying! Katie can't be trusted- we're walking right into a trap"

"Will if you say another word about this…" Robin called out "… then I will see to it that I change my new 'no more head-hitting with staffs'-policy. We need her so shut up!"

"Master" Much said "Why exactly do we need her, I think you said Marian won't let us rescue her…"

"She won't. The friars and her father will pay if we do, she can't allow that. She is so stubborn"

"Then why do we need to get into the castle?"

"Because" Robin hissed "He doesn't get to do this! The sheriff doesn't get to… to _mark_ her and get away with it unscathed!" The outlaw leader sat down, his legs crossed and a fierce, determined look in his eyes. "It is time…" he finished with a voice that was hushed but terrifying "…for retribution".

---

Kate knew everything about the castle. She knew where all the doors were, she held all the keys- save some that only the sheriff possessed- and she knew all the guards; aware of their movements and habits. It was easy for her to help them, easy to agree to Allan's question when he went to find her- it was always easy to agree. Now she made her way down the corridors to the kitchen entrance and saw the motley group lurking in the shadows, most of them cloaked but a blond head seemed to catch the moonlight like a forest mushroom. Allan's hair was shaggy from the rain during the day and he looked dishevelled in a way that reminded her of waking up by his side in the old days. The reminiscence made her shudder slightly- her body betraying her thoughts no matter how aloof and cold her features were.

"You made it past the guards in the court yard?" she said as she pushed the heavy door open.

"Yes, it was disturbingly easy"

"You only get to the servants quarters this way. In order to get from here into the fancy parts of the castle you need to pass through the most guarded areas"

"Except if you know a Katie Butcher that is" Allan smiled "I'm not being funny, but you got a way right?"

"Men of all times have expressed a need to keep certain privacy from watching eyes and gossiping mouths" she said "This way"

They followed the small, almost fairy-like woman in silence as she lead them through corridors they didn't know existed, corridors with so many doors it had to be storerooms or staff living quarters, narrow corridors where you couldn't walk two men abreast, corridors that seemed to fall apart from poor maintenance and finally sloping slippery corridors that forced you to cling to the walls to not fall. At last they ended up in a pitch black line of rooms with watery muddy floors and an arched stone ceiling that reminded vaguely of a crypt.

"We are below the castle" Katie said "I imagine the original idea was to hide here in case of emergency but now it's not really used for anything"

"Does the sheriff know about this?" Much wondered "Did the old sheriff?"

Katie shrugged her shoulders, a movement that made the candle in her hand flicker and dance. "Hardly" she said "They would have sealed it of if they knew what a terrible security leak it is"

"Security leak?"

She didn't say more, just motioned them to follow her as she made her way further into the big damp room. The arched ceiling seemed to be waiting for an opportunity to cave in over them- the castle weighing it down and giving it that same sense of pressure that underground caves have- and big fat rats scurried across the ground.

"I hate this" Much whined "It's cold… and dark. And... Uh! Master watch out!"

"What Much?" Robin sighed. Much's many fine qualities were well hidden under layers of annoyingness in situations like this.

"I just… the rats… I'm sorry. Miss Katie, are we there yet?" He tip toed ahead, trying not to walk in the biggest pools of stinking still water, and thus constantly loosing balance and tumbling into the slippery wall. It was very uncomfortable.

"We are here" Katie said, stopping in front of a part of the stone wall that seemed strange and out of place. The surface of some of the stones was smoother, as if it had been worn for some reason. Katie put her hand on the smooth stones and gave the wall a decisive push. It moved, slowly shifting and opening up a small crack.

"A hidden door!" Will exclaimed, for a moment forgetting his resentment towards Katie "But why!?"

"As I said, men of all times have expressed a need to keep certain privacy from watching eyes and gossiping mouths" Katie smiled faintly.

"Women could be passed in and out without any suspicion being roused" Robin explained. He had heard tales of this, 'the secret passages of Nottingham Castle', and had spent years trying to locate them as a boy and later as a youth with Marian by his side. Robin smiled a bit sadly at the memory of this; she had almost been worse than him, always far to curios and stubborn for her own good, and getting both dresses and reputations ruined in their childish games.

"Women- yes" Katie said "And other sins as well. Follow me"

This wasn't a corridor; it was a narrow passage that you had to squeeze yourself through- pressing to the wall and carefully treading up the small steps.

"I'm not being funny but whoever built this can't have been a big fan of big-breasted women" Allan said "They would be squashed!"

"I think that might have been of minor importance, this is hardly built to be comfy Allan" Katie responded with a rather tender smile that was relaxed and safe in the darkness that enveloped them. The candle had been blown out in order not to cause any 'human torches' to flare up- and it was impossible to see anything at all.

"This must be what it is like to be blind" Will suddenly said, realising that he was staring in vain into the darkness "There was this woman, Reese, that the sheriff punished by taking her eyes out. He said that it was just like an Italian saint, Saint Lucia, except that Reese's eyes wouldn't be given back to her by God"

"Well" Robin's cold voice sounded strained as if he was smiling, but there was no joy in its tone "Do you want us to take out the sheriff's eyes as well while we're at it Will? It would give a whole new meaning to 'an eye for an eye'"

This made everyone fall into an uneasy silence, only hearing the sound of wool that was scratched against rough stone walls and strained, panting breaths as the outlaws tried to get enough oxygen off the heavy damp air.

"What if we die like this?" Much burst out with a touch of panic in his voice "No one would know what happened to us… And then after hundreds of years, perhaps in time for the kingdom come, someone would tear down the wall and they would find a pathetic pile of grinning dusty skeletons. I mean, what would they think?! Certainly not 'here lie the remnants of brave men'… I'm guessing that it would be more in line with 'ah, look a pile of thugs up to no good'… Do you think God even remembers to check inside castle walls on the resurrection day?"

"Much!" Allan laughed a little "We haven't even died yet and you already worry about resurrection?! Just chill mate, this will be fine. Katie knows what she is doing, right babe?"

"Oh she's your 'babe' now?" Will interposed, sounding rather edgy.

"It's a saying! Commonly used for people of the opposite sex"

"Really?" Katie interrupted the argument "Well then, 'babes' and Djaq, we have reached the sheriff's quarters now. When you push this stone you will find yourself by Vaysey's bed side. A guard called Rob is keeping watch- he'll be sleeping on his post if I know him right, but you should knock him out just in case he decides to do his job"

"And you?" Will asked her suspiciously "Where will you be?"

"Outside the room, I can't be with Vaysey. He is my boss after all- I will hardly get a raise for leading his worst enemies into his bed chamber"

"Shush" Robin said "This is what we do… Allan you make it to the door when we get into the room… Knock out the guard and take his place. Katie can keep you company. We'll give Vaysey quite a rude awakening so I want you to muffle any noise he tries to make Little John. We'll gag him and bind him as soon as we can. If the fire is out then you better light it Will. Djaq… you make your things ready"

The heavy stone door shifted slowly, revealing the backside of a dark wooden wardrobe that was starting to rot and go mouldy from the dampness leaking out of the hidden passage. Little John gave it a push, just enough to enable them to squeeze through into the room that was surprisingly light compared to the complete blackness they left behind them. It was the bluish grey light the night only broken by a faint yellow glow from the fireplace. Everything in the chamber had been deprived of the colours of the day, turning everyday objects into mystical shapes partly engulfed by the surrounding shadows. Vaysey was yet another shape, breathing heavily where he lay tucked in under fine silk sheets and embroidered wool blankets. The prettiness of it all almost made Much feel sick, that this vermin would sleep so happily without nightmares in a bed suited for kings.

"Off…" Vaysey mumbled into his pillow "… with his head… he, he, he"

"Dreaming of you it seems" Djaq smiled at Robin who stood almost perfectly still and stared at the grinning sheriff- his face fierce and so filled with hatred that it seemed enough to scare entire armies on the run.

"Let's get this plan into motion" he hissed.

Allan made his way to the door and sneaked out. There was a thumping sound and some clenching as the guard fell down. This made Vaysey stir from his sleep, opening one eye and then rising up to a half sitting position suddenly wide awake. Little John put a big rough hand on his mouth to silence whatever loud accusations tried to escape his mouth, and the sheriff gave out a resigned sigh that made his cheeks pout like a squirrel collecting nuts. He seemed to think this was mainly an inconvenience, not feeling the least threatened by having his room filled with shaggy outlaws.

"Let me guess" Robin said with a soft, almost silky, voice "'Guards!'… That is what you want to say isn't it? Well, let's not deprive you of that. Guards! Guards!"

Allan heard the call and obediently dragged the unconscious guard into the room, already on his way to get all dressed up in chain mail.

"Coming" he said and went over to the sheriff's mirror as he put the helmet in place, giving his reflection a cheeky smile "I'd make a rather dashing guard, don't you think?"

"Irresistible" Djaq smirked, gaining an oddly dark look from Will at this flirtatious little comment.

"I'm not being funny- I could charm the knickers of the queen of France like this…"

"Well" Robin interrupted Allan's speech. His silky voice silenced everything around it, cutting into reality with the force of clenching armies and crumbling mountains "Here we have the guard. What more do you want to say Vaysey? Hm? Let's see… What about 'Hood, What is this about?!'"

The sheriff was well tied up and gagged by now, sitting on a chair and looking at Robin with a bored expression in his eyes. 'Hmpf' he said 'Hmfp-pfff-ump'.

"Sheriff Vaysey" Robin shook his head with a terrifyingly soft smile "You really don't make any sense at all" He took a chair and sat down opposite to the sheriff- putting his feet up on Vaysey's thigh and leaning back with the hands entwined behind his head. "I'll tell you anyway- just for fun. You see, Lady Marian used to be a dear friend of mine. She might scorn me now but as you know, people like me rarely change, and I wouldn't like to see her harmed. And that is the problem isn't it? Oh, there is no use trying to speak Pippin, but I think I know what you would say if you could. 'She has committed and admitted to a crime and must be punished according to the laws of the land'. Well yes, that might be true"

The sheriff suddenly looked annoyed at the mentioning of his name. 'Pippin' was not something he enjoyed being called by, not by 'friends' and certainly not by his enemies. Something changed in Robin as he sat and watched the sheriff, something in his posture first- then his smug cold smile gave away to a harder and fiercer expression. He rose up from the chair and started to pace over to the fireplace where he tucked in a short sword between the glowing coal, causing it to sparkle and flare up briefly before settling again.

"Make sure it is hot enough" he said to Much, who stood by the fireplace looking rather nervous.

"Master, I don't like this…" the manservant said.

"An eye for an eye Much, remember!" Robin hissed "We have decided on this, there is no backing out. Just make sure it stays hot enough, it will be fine"

"It just feels wrong…" Much mumbled as he hesitantly put a log on the fire.

Robin walked over to the sheriff, pleased to finally see a nervous sparkle in his eyes. He grabbed the armrests on the chair so hard his knuckles went white- not that is made any difference in the dim light- and stared into Vaysey's eyes. Robin looked pale like a ghost, deep blue shadows under his eyes and his sharp teeth exposed as a growling wolf.

"You see, you don't get to torture her. I will not allow it! You went over the line Vaysey" Robin laughed a little but without joy, his rage restrained and subdued but bubbling under the surface and making its way out every now and then- a twitching muscle, a tension in the clenched jaw, a sudden shadow in the wildly staring eyes. "You" he spit out, saliva forming tiny droplets on Vaysey's skin. The sheriff cringed and tried to push himself back trough the chair to escape this spitting mad man "You went over the line!!! You don't get to torture her. You don't get to do that!" Robin had grabbed the sheriff's head now and pounded it into the chair with small but violent movements.

"I think he's trying to ask you what you are going to do about it master!" Much interposed, eager to finish this as fast as possible- preferably before it got out of hand. Robin let go of the sheriff and took some steps back.

"An eye…" he hissed "… for an eye. Every time you step over the line, every time you torture her or harm her- I will have retribution. If you whip her then we whip you. If you beat her then we beat you. And if you burn her…" he went over to the fireplace to check on the sword "… then we burn you"

The room went silent, making the few noises stand out like morningstars; Allan's muffled voice from the corridor leaked through the wooden door, raising and sinking in his normal ramblings- and there was a low scratching sound from Djaq who was grinding something up.

"Give me water" she said "This is ready"

She made some sort of potion of the mixture and gave the flask to Little John.

"I am not you Vaysey" Robin said and shifted the sword a bit to give it more of the heat from the fireplace "You will sleep when we 'mark' you. It's the humane approach after all…" He laughed dryly "Well, to be honest, it was my men that insisted on it. I wouldn't mind having you scream like a pig at the slaughter house myself. Un-gag him and make him drink it John. Feel free to use your staff if he tries to shout or something equally silly"

The sheriff dozed off within half an hour and Robin took the sword from the flames. He went over to Vaysey's body that remained seated since the ropes held him up, but had fallen forward a bit and the head hung limp and drooled helplessly over his chest. It looked degrading- an old man slobbering all over his night gown- and Robin felt rather uplifted by the sight. He grinned as he pushed flat side of the blazing hot sword into Vaysey's shoulder, saw how he twitched and moaned- stirring just for a moment before he fell back into anxious sleep again. It sizzled as the skin was scorched by the burning blade- Robin kept it in place, pushed it harder and harder until Much called out that it was enough and Little John ripped him away. He felt dizzy from the adrenaline, filled with a tainted euphoria that was paved with a pain that ripped through his chest like a hurricane. He wanted to shout- to roar a crazed berserker's battle cry and force the walls of this damned city to crumble. He wanted to cry, to fall down on his knees and give in to the grief that never left him- that haunted him through the nights and the days- that made him feel weak and insane and world weary. He saw sand dunes covered with blood, he saw metal that glimmered in the sun, he saw Marian fall and fall and fall. Robin took a deep breath - gathering his shattered thoughts to the room he was standing in, the friends that surrounded him, the retribution…

"I need to see her" he said with a husky voice- surprised to hear the dejected exhausted ring his words had.

"I thought about that"

Everyone turned to the door where Katie Butcher stood with Allan behind her. She held something in her arms, a piece of grey wool cloth.

"It is a friar's outfit" she said "Grey, not brown as the Knittle brothers. You can dress as a brother and I will help you get past the guards. They are easily persuaded- all men are. My sister will help the rest of you out"

Robin watched how some sort of heavy sadness seemed to push down over Djaq as Katie said this, and at the same time a sheepish grin forced it way out from Will. He turned his head to catch a sight of Allan and saw him looking troubled. He knew the sisters best, but did that make him more reliable in matters that concerned them or less?

"What do you say Allan?" he asked, hoping, begging, pleading that he wouldn't fuss over it. Allan watched his leader's desperate face and realised in an emphatic moment that he could do nothing but agree.

"Fine with me" he said "Take care of him Katie"

"I will tell Vix to come here" she stated as it was the easiest most normal thing in the world to help outlaws escape from the very heart of Nottingham Castle. She didn't seem to be particularly interested in how it turned out- just gave the friar's robe to Robin and told him that pompous phrases in Latin was a good way to impress the guards, but he should keep quiet apart from that and let her do the talking.

---

Marian's shoulder didn't hurt. It ached, burned, smarted, throbbed and stung in pounding pangs. She had forced herself to cool it down with water and then- realising she had to save some liquid to drink- she covered it up as well as possible with the torn dress and leaned to the wall. It was sore, she could feel her heartbeats pulsate through it, but the chilly stone wall dulled the burning slightly. This room didn't have bars; instead the door and walls were solid with the only light coming from the roof window- it let in the rain and made the floor below it damp. Now pools of water had gathered between areas of wet hay that made up the 'furniture' together with a pot, some blankets and a wooden bench (or bed if you lowered your standards to non-existence). It smelled mouldy and something else; a vague sour odour that she feared came from her body but hoped was something else. It smelled like things dying- or rather like things living; things that preyed on dead things- things that lived off decay.

Her punishment hadn't even begun and she already felt exhausted and worn out- yet she wouldn't be able to sleep this night. She felt distant as her tired weary mind drifted off into half-dozing memories. It wasn't whole memories, not the kind of reminiscence that makes any sense- instead she just got shreds and shatters, images jumping before her eyes like flees in no particular order. Robin's light brown hair catching the sun as he turned to her- her father looking up from his desk to smile at her in a day, any day, before his forehead became constantly frowned- a tree filled with pink cherry blossoms. The cherry blossoms, the chestnut trees, she smiled as her mind treaded into these territories, all the flowers she had loved but witch lost their charm when they were plucked. He plucked them for her anyway, his strong hands holding the twigs out to her much like a scarecrow- young Robin had been almost skinny- but with pleading eyes that begged her to love him.

A noise came from the door- it scratched and squeaked as a key was turned in the rusty lock- and Marian tried to focus her numb mind. She heard a guard speak as the door creaked and opened, and recognised the voice as belonging to Guard Peter- a rather clever and deeply religious man in spite of his line of work. He was in the company of a friar in a grey robe that she didn't recognise from any of the orders in town.

"In 'ere" Guard Peter said "I'll lock you in brother, knock when you want to come out. Maybe you can give her salvation in heaven- I fear there is non left for her on earth. Poor thing"

"Errare humanum est, ignoscere divinum" the brother responded "Dominus Vobiscum, My Son"

The friar's voice made Marian stir from her half-slumber- something so familiar, surely it couldn't be… She watched the man in the grey friar's robe, a hood covered most of him but the way he moved, the shape of the body under the cloth, the glimpse of stubble on the young chin. It couldn't be but it was! Marian sat up straight and automatically moved her hand up to her hair, combing the tangled mess with her fingers and tried to make it look less unkempt. She felt something wake up inside her, a star lighting her from within. It was foolish but it was how it felt to her- it was how he made her feel.

Robin waited by the door until it was closed and locked behind him, then removed the hood and revealed a face that was painted in worry and sadness. It made her heart ache so she forced herself to smile- a brave grin to make it seem less severe. He wasn't fooled.

"Marian" Robin said- his voice sounded thick and trembling from the sensation of seeing her like this "How do you feel?"

"I…" she forced back the impulse to lie to him "Quite frankly I am a little scared and uncomfortable" The tears- she promised not to cry but the tears never listened to her "I'm sorry, I'm so happy to see you… "She sobbed- then added with a rather hoarse little laugher: "I could put a bucket under my head and never be out of water"

He laughed faintly- kneeled on the soaking floor before her where she sat in the hay like a peasant girl taking a break from the harvest.

"You should know better than to drink salt water" he said with a soft smile "Foolish noble woman" He gave her a light kiss on the lips, then frowned and shifted his position so he sat behind her. "I will check you wound, it might hurt"

"It does hurt"

"It will hurt more"

"It is how you sell it… Sorry that is getting old" she laughed- then cringed at the sensation of his cold rough fingers to her sore skin.

"We get hurt to much" he mumbled "That is getting old" He was forcing himself to be still, not tremble and scream at the sight of her scorched skin. He had never seen a burn mark this fresh up close; he hadn't expected the edges to be black like the remnants of a bon fire- he hadn't imagined to find yellow bubbles that looked like cocoons for strange insects. In truth he hadn't even expected the skin to be this pink and fall off in big flakes like delicate butterfly wings.

"Does t look bad?" she asked when his silence was prolonged- sensing him watching and studying what she couldn't see herself.

"Well, it looks nothing like a 'V'" he said and smiled to reassure her. "I will wash it but Katie has promised to come tomorrow better equipped to care for it"

"Katie…" Marian said, remembering the odd read headed maid.

"She gave me the ring back. Clever girl"

"She did!?" Marian exclaimed "Ouch, be gentle!"

"Sorry it needs to be clean!" Robin rubbed her back with his free hand as he gently cleaned the area around the wound- big comforting circles. "Does it feel any better when I rub you like this?"

"I feel like a horse" she smiled- then added "A little. You should have been born a woman, you are very nursing"

Robin laughed a little, watching the pale skin on her bare shoulder get goose bumps in the cold air or under his tender touch. He suddenly became painfully aware of her body- the curves and the feel of her when she was this close, and the glimpse of nakedness where the dress was torn teased him and tickled his imagination. It stirred something inside him, a longing that was decisively improper for the occasion. He tried to shake it off watching the wound again- but the empathy tingled inside him, shooting stars through his abdomen in a way that was just a little bit too close to another sensation completely. He took a deep breath to calm his pounding heart.

"I learnt it in the holy land" he said "When you rub someone gently the pain lessens- there is just so much a body can feel. It gets distracted by the touch"

"You should distract me more" she smiled and made him feel rather dizzy and anticipated in spite of his logical self telling him not to be such a fool. Then she cringed from the pain when he came close to one of the blisters and he got nervous and started to rub her back so swift and hard that she had to force her body to be still. "Robin" she laughed "It's enough. Please tell me… Tell me about the holy land"

Robin felt himself tense. He didn't like to talk about the holy land, but she was so vulnerable- how could he deny her anything if it could distract her only for a moment?

"It is sandy and hot" he said "The heat is so dry, not like here- you find yourself constantly thirsty, craving moisture as much as the dried out ground beneath your feet. When it gets too hot men see things that are not there, visions in the horizon as real as their own hands before them. Yet the desert nights can be icing cold" he hesitated a little, then saw how intensely she listened- clung to his words as a castaway. "There is nothing more amazing then to see the sun rise over the desert. The colours- you would find yourself in a living hell and yet it look like heaven. The horizon is blurred, not clear as it is here- the heat makes it ripple as if it was reflected in a pond. It moves- floats. And then there are the bodies…" he felt sick at the reminiscence but found it impossible to stop now, he needed her to hear, to see what he carried inside him "The bodies, they are just shadows first, shapes that gradually become humans, horses, flags…" he laughed a little "the flags stick up like ribs from a half eaten corpse. That is glory Marian, glory is a banner soaked in blood- helplessly abandoned in the heat of battle. The battle field… When you fight you shut out everything- you survive and survive because you have to. It is chaos, nothing but a wild desperate chaos and the clinging of hundreds of weapons and shields and armours that are plunged at each other. The sound is so roaring- Much used to put cloth in his ears to spare them. I think it might have been the screaming more that the iron though, I never followed his example. I told myself I needed all my senses but you can't hear anything really. When it is over it is so silent… Such a waste, all those lives… It smells of blood first, then of decay as it rots, a sweet smell of death- and the birds come down to feed. I imagine they think it is a feast…" he laughed dryly and then went silent, realising that the subject might be a bit unpleasant to the woman who sat wounded before him. There weren't much more to say about it anyway- you fought, you dreamed, you survived.

Marian swallowed- scared to turn around and see his face. What could she say? There was no answer that measured up to what he had told her, and other people's demons are always out of reach- distant as the moon.

"I wonder how many hardships a man can live through" she whispered, only barely loud enough for him to hear it "I wonder… Does it make you stronger? Or does it only make you weaker…"

"Both" he answered. Her wound was as clean as he could make it- he tried to pull up the dress to cover her exposed shoulder, tying the frayed edges together in a vain attempt to heal her. Then he gave up- leaned forward and gingerly put a soft tender kiss on the pink skin beside the burn mark. His stubble scratched her a little, tickled and tingled, but mainly it was a wave of unrealistic pleasure that went as a shudder through her body.

"We have to talk about something before you go" she mumbled, shutting her eyes to feel him better. He had his hand on her bare shoulder, his fingers treading down beneath the edge of the dress just enough not to be inappropriate- well not to be terribly inappropriate anyway- and he leaned his head on her other shoulder, pressing his warm wet lips to her throat. It wasn't really kisses- he just brushed his lips to her skin- but the tip of his tongue and the warm slightly laboured breath made her moan in spite of herself.

"Bad time…" Robin could hear his own husky voice say "Bad place. Mm what do we need to talk about?"

"About time" she stated bluntly "We need to talk about time. Now that there is none"

This gave Robin a rather rude awakening to reality, feeling his body tense and back off from her a bit. She pulled herself up to sit beside him, taking his hand in hers and intertwining his scarred fingers with her own. It was a strange kind of closeness; the scene seemed tender and intimate but was tainted with sorrow.

"Don't say that Marian" he said "There is still time!"

She shook her head sadly "No there is none. I can't see a way out of this, unless the king comes before the winter…"

"Your father is pulling strings" Robin said "I have talked to him. He is writing letters Marian!"

"My father doesn't have any strings, he is an old man with few friends left" Then she added after some hesitation: "You must take care of each other when… if I am gone"

"I won't listen to this!" Robin said, tried to rise and escape this hell, but she held his hand so tight that he sat down again "I'm sorry... I just… Marian, please do not talk like this! There must be a way"

"Maybe there is a way" she said smiling a little at his stubborn conviction "But there might not be. And Robin, if there isn't then you must still live" She felt the tears again, silly tears! "I'm sorry, I just… I will not be released until the Night Watchman is cached… and the Night Watchman can't be cached. The only way for me to escape my penalty is to give myself up, and then I stand to face a worse penalty!" she laughed bitterly behind the low sobs that made her body tremble and her breathing jerky and strained. "Now isn't that ironic?"

"A Catch 22" Robin said softly "It's what we called it in the holy land. You could get sent home by pleading insanity, but anyone pleading insanity was sane enough not to want to be there- and thus not insane enough to get sent home. A perfect paradox- ultimatum- ultimately ironic, yes"

"No way out" Marian said sadly, but Robin shook his head almost violently at her.

"Yes!" he exclaimed "There will be a way!" He saw how tired she looked now, her eyes heavy but filled with pain, and it made him panic for a moment. The thought of loosing her, he couldn't face that! "Djaq made a potion to get the sheriff some sleep…" he laughed a little at her puzzled expression "… Don't ask. I brought the rest of it for you. To let you sleep through the night"

The relief and gratitude made her cry again, silent tears this time around. As her eyelids went heavy she fought a while to keep them open- then smiled and mumbled "Robin, your Latin still sounds terrible..." before she let her consciousness drift away.

Robin smiled sadly as Marian fell asleep the last night before her penalty, with her sore shoulder facing the ceiling and the troubled head resting comfortably in his lap.

---

"How do you know Allan then?" Little John asked Vix Butcher when they made their way through the servants quarters. The red headed woman turned to the outlaws with a perfectly light-hearted smile.

"He has not told you?" Vix said- catching Allan's eyes and completely ignoring the panic that she saw fill up the young man. She laughed "Well, it is quite simple. First he courted me. Then he courted my sister with more success. Then he cheated on her with me, perfectly understandable from a male point of view I guess but not very thoughtful. And oh…" She turned to stare at Allan now, the smile growing wider when she realised that he hadn't told his friends about this "Then Katie murdered a man in cold blood and Allan scampered away never to return…"

* * *

Well, well, that was another chapter done. I hope you liked it! I'm really tired now, so i'm not going to bother trying to be funny or charming and suck up to you guys hehe.

Love /Trix


	8. What If

Chapter 8: What if…

A man can live a lifetime running from history, reality and truth.

A man can live a lifetime of lies and pretence, denying what has been.

A man can run, but for every escape- for every half-truth- for every rambling history- for everything forgotten- there is a "what if".

A man can live a lifetime haunted by "what if"-s.

---

_The town was a town of no importance. It was a place, a stage, a scenery or setting- Allan wasn't sure he could remember the name if he tried. They always ran from something, changed the environment to destroy their reputations all over again in a new place. Maybe it was York, he thought. Or Scarborough. It had been gloomy, but what English town isn't gloomy during raw autumn nights? _

_He could remember himself- young Allan- walking solemnly over the muddy streets in the dusky small hours as his head ached with a dull pain that was entirely his own doing. The roads were unevenly 'paved' with rotting planks, as bridges over the pools of brown water, and he balanced his body as well as he could. He was thinking, no, he was regretting, pondering- or rather lamenting- his lot in life. He was "what if"-ing - that is what Katie would have called it. What if, what if._

_What if he had never met Katie Butcher? What if he had been a stronger man? What if he had resisted Vix when she seduced him? He could remember it so clearly as if it happened yesterday, how Katie had walked in on them, the expression in her face. She had been smiling; a warm greeting smile- the anticipated smile of a girl expecting to see her beloved- but then her face washed clean of all emotions. Her smile died when she found them- her love and her sister- their bodies pressed together, entangled in all their shameful nakedness. It died out as a fire when there are no more logs to feed it with; her face went blank and empty. The aloof expression that he once had learned to know, that he had fought so hard to defeat, it came back with renewed strength. "Oh" she had said "Excuse my disturbing you", then she left as calm as ever. No tears or screaming, no accusations, instead she went to the kitchen and made them all supper. _

_What if she hadn't walked in on them? What if, what if. _

_Nothing changed after that. _

_Everything changed after that. _

_Katie still went by his side- she still let him kiss and court her. But Katie just wasn't Katie anymore. Whatever he had managed to wake up inside this distant girl had died away. Her smile was faint and detached, she shrugged her shoulders at his suggestions and never resisted, never talked back. She agreed to everything. The only sign of the faintest resistance was that she slept with strange men for money once again. He told her not to, and she said she wouldn't but did it anyway. He didn't dare to provoke an argument, and they never spoke of his adultery. As Allan closed up to the house that harboured the two sisters he realised that he would do anything- anything! - just to keep Katie by his side, a fool as he was. He had a feeling that she felt the same somewhere under the blank surface. They played an odd game where a truth was not a truth when it wasn't spoken and they pretended like it never happened- or just didn't matter- like nothing had changed at all. He couldn't loose her. _

_What if he lost her? _

_Allan went into the house and threw his cloak over the wooden table before he dashed up the stairs to Katie's bedchamber, wishing that she would be alone. The door opened with a low creaking noise, and he sneaked in ready to share her bed. He still did that, still spoke tender words in her ear, still courted her. He did anything – Anything! Everything! - to keep her. But this day she wasn't quite alone._

_Katie sat on her bed, the sheets spun around her naked body like some sort of cocoon. The man lay on the floorboards with his face partly turned towards the bed in an angle that seemed entirely unnatural. His eyes were wide open and the empty stare looked accusing even in death. Allan's first thought was 'No', and as he remembered it afterwards 'No' was the only thought that crossed his mind. It echoed 'No, no, no', a desperate 'no', angry, plagued and puzzled 'No'-s. But the room around him kept answering 'Yes'. _

_And then there was blood. This was more blood than Allan had ever seen. Katie was drenched in it, her pale skin looked even paler to the crimson stains. The sheets were red, and the knife in her hand was completely soaked. The man was a bit on the fat side, Allan could recognise him as Jimmy Doyle- not the most pleasant of men- and Katie's skin was painted with deep blue and red bruises. But all this violence! No! This ruthless killing! No, no, no! Where the hell did she get the knife from? Several deep gashes, turning the room into slaughterhouse, covered Jimmy's stout body. Allan turned the corpse over so that he faced the ceiling - the stabs were all in his back it seemed. This was no murder committed in self-defence. _

_Katie looked up at him with big pleading eyes, not blank, but rather the kind of look her sister used to get men to do whatever she wanted. For a moment he felt like the ghost of Vix Butcher stared at him from Katie's eyes. _

"_Allan you must help me" she said "We can take his money, there were some coins. It will get us to a new town. You must help me fix this"_

_Allan just looked at her, stunned and shocked. No. Then he turned his back and walked away from her, never to return._

_What if he never met Katie Butcher?_

_What if he never slept with her sister?_

_What if she never walked in on them?_

_What if she never killed that man?_

_What if he hadn't run from it all?_

_What if, what if._

_What if he hadn't lost her?_

---

They all watched him. At least that was how if felt to Allan where he sat leaned against a stone in the outlaw camp eating the supper that Much had prepared. It was a bad supper, even with the standards they were used to- the rabbit meat was burned and seasoned with too much honey. The sweet smoky taste was sickening not only to Allan, but instead of taunting Much an uncomfortable silence held the camp in a firm grip. And they all watched Allan, no doubt waiting for him to tell them the whole story about Katie Butcher. Now that Robin was back he had little excuses left to stay silent.

Robin was the only one that didn't watch him. He was also the only one that ate the meat without a sickened look in his face. The outlaw leader was far away.

"Well" Allan said finally, eager to break the accusing silence "This is a terrible rabbit. Are you sure it is properly cooked Much? I'm not being funny, but your cooking is seriously changing for the worse mate…"

"I beg your pardon?" Much exclaimed and looked at him with a stunned expression "I think my rabbit is the least of our problems! Master!"

"The rabbit is very tasty" Robin interposed with an indifferent glance at the quarrelling outlaws.

"No, it's not master, I'm sorry. That is not the point, and you don't have to eat it" Much put down his own plate as to illustrate the statement and noticed that most of the men followed his example. Only Robin continued to pick in the food with the complete lack of interest that he showed everything eatable these days- it was nothing but nourishment to him. "The point is that Allan has something he needs to explain to us" Much continued "This night, when you left us for the dungeons Master, Vix Butcher… well she revealed something that I think is of importance"

"She said that Katie killed someone" Will added. His eyes were firmly on Allan as they had been ever since the revelation, an intense stare that wouldn't yield.

"You should tell us about that Allan" Robin said and forced himself to take an interest in the argument. He knew theoretically that it was important, he just couldn't find the strength to care.

Allan sighed and picked up his plate again to have something to occupy his hands with. There was only one way to do this; to tell it like it was a tale, someone else's history with no relevance for him here and now. A tale without "what if"-s.

"Well" he started, and put on a mischievous grin that felt more like a grimace "It all happened in a town of no importance whatsoever… but it might have been York…"

The outlaws listened to Allan's story with different expressions and feelings. Little John frowned, but it resembled is normal face enough to make Allan think he was the one who felt the least upset. Robin didn't seem too distressed either, but the tale made him wake from this brooding and turn his attention to the camp with a grave look in the blue eyes. Then there was Much- he did his best fish-face with gaping mouth and squinting eyes- and Djaq who seemed mostly sad; the dark eyes were filled with plagued compassion. But it was Will that worried Allan- Will was the one that seemed angry- increasingly hostile and upset as the tale got soaked in blood. The thought of such a ruthless killing was incomprehensible to the sensitive young man; that was something that the sheriff or Sir Guy could have done. In his simple way of looking at things this made Katie just as bad as Vaysey.

"… and that was it" Allan finished "Funny how things can work out, huh?"

Much was the first to talk. "That was…" he burst out "That was… that was it? That was _it_? You call that _it_?!"

"Yeah. It's the whole story. I know I should have told you, right? But the thing is, this all happened years ago" Allan looked around at the silent stunned faces "It's in the past" he tried.

Will suddenly stood up and paced over to where Allan sat.

"I told you she was bad. How could you argue with me about that even though you knew this?!" he hissed. "This makes her worse! How she can be Vix's sister I do not know…"

Allan rose to face Will and put a hand on the young man's shoulder- looking him firmly in the eyes. "Listen mate" he said "I told you the Butcher sisters were bad news"

"But you made it sound like Vera was the worse of them!" Will exclaimed "What has she ever done?"

Allan sighed. Will called Vix 'Vera' now, that couldn't be good news. It meant that he was taken with her, thought himself true in the assumption that her smile was nothing but a façade that hid a kind and misunderstood girl. Men did this- they were fooled by her and protected her even though she was the biggest threat. Will was right- Allan considered Vix to be worse news than Katie. In spite of what Katie had done he still cared for her, in spite of the blood, in spite of everything. He felt irrationally upset by the accusations Will cast at him.

"She isn't as sweet as you think!" he called out and removed his hand from Will's shoulder. "You shouldn't be so easily fooled by her!"

"Yeah? And what about Katie?! She got you wrapped around her little finger. She is a murderer! An evil, lying, treacherous, ugly…"

The punch came without warning- not even Allan realised what he had done until he saw the surprise in Wills face as he moved his hand to up his nose and blood stained the fingertips. Allan's fist ached a little, a tingling sensation on his knuckles, and he rubbed it absentmindedly.

"Damn it!" he said "Mate, I'm sorry… Will, I didn't mean it. I'm just, don't say that! You don't get to call her…" What? Evil? Lying? Treacherous? Ugly? In spite of his violent reaction to the words Allan knew that there could be truth in every one of those epithets. Yet, he could still feel the rage rushing through his body, making him tremble.

"Can't you take the truth Allan?!" Will yelled at him "I thought you were a bigger man, but you are nothing but a hopeless rogue, are you?"

"Oh no… you better take that back, Will" Much tried to interrupt the argument. Will was pushing all Allan's buttons and the testosterone and adrenaline bubbled between them like a hot spring. It made the camp seem like a roman coliseum set for a fierce duel- the atmosphere was so tense it seemed to make the air heavy around them.

"...You belong with Katie and her kind!" Will spit at Allan - as if Much's words had been aimed at the wind and didn't concern him. "The prostitutes, and boozers, and thugs!!! That's your kind of people" They circled around each other, slowly but with tense, upset movements.

"What do you think Vix is?" Allan laughed a little. Pushing buttons, Much thought, stop pushing buttons! "Let me inform you…" Allan continued in a light voice "Vix has slept with more men than Mary Magdalene, Will. She has slept with more men than you have met your entire pitiful life, young naïve Will Scarlet, she has laid with lords and peasants, hell she has even laid with me! And I'm telling you… she likes it! That harlot enjoys every sin she commits, she has more pride in her line of work than you have in your carpentry. Right this moment she is probably moaning and panting in the castle, pleasuring Sir Guy with her firm, warm thighs and wet, red sucking mou…"

The second punch was less of a surprise- it came from Will who threw out his fist at Allan's grinning face with all the force his adrenaline filled body could master. Clumsily Allan ducked away and avoided his nose getting broken; considering the number of times that had happened in the past he had long given up the effort to maintain a nice roman profile, but he was still a bit worried about his voice going all nasal if it happened again. Will lost balance by the missed strike and Allan took the opportunity to thrust his elbow at the younger man's back- making him fall down uncomfortably in the brown leaves. He backed off and waited for Will to scramble to his feet again.

"Come on" he taunted the young man "You can do better than that, surely I'm not that crappy a teacher am I?"

They circled around each other again, but this time it was to get a good punch at the other. Allan slapped Will over the head a couple of times- teased him to make him mad enough to loose control. Allan preferred not to 'begin' a fight, in his old days that had been a good way to plead innocence when the fight was over. It wasn't in vain- soon enough Will leaped forward in a movement that was to swift for Allan to predict. He felt a sharp knee sink into his stomach, and then a fist hit his jawbone and made him bite down over his own tongue. The taste of blood filling his mouth worked as a green sign telling the adrenaline-filled caveman to take over in Allan. The two men ducked and pushed each other around the camp, tumbling down over Much's cooking gear, getting shoved into trees, wrestling and rolling around in the leaves until someone scrambled to his feet again and the ducking and pushing continued with renewed strength. The 'thuds' and 'smacks' from hard punches made the outlaws that watched the scene in paralyzed helplessness wince.

Robin sat down and watched the fight without a word, saw the blood stains that tainted the two friend's shirts and heard the accusations they threw at each other getting worse when their imagination failed them. "You're mother was a harlot!", "You're dick makes Djaq look like a man in comparison", "You got bastard brothers over half on England", "Vix would laugh if you lay with her, you pathetic feeble child", "You're a bastard!", "You're the son of a bastard!", "You're the son of a harlot!", "You ARE a harlot!"… Finally Robin felt he had enough. This was how they behaved?! Marian was in prison and his men fought each other as boozers at a tavern. He leapt up from where he was sitting and went into the fight as a mother separating two unruly sons, grabbing their hair so hard it felt like their scalps would come off. Something in Robin's fierce expression calmed them, made them back of from each other, shy away like rabbits under their leader's intense stare. He let go of them, then shoved Will into the ground.

"Sit!" he hissed- then increased his voice into a hoarse yelling. "You too, Allan, sit!!!"

Allan sat down carefully examining his injuries; bruises and torn clothes, they were lucky no knives had been drawn. He glanced over at Will who looked rather shabby and dirty, probably worse off than himself he decided. Allan smirked at the thought that the fight had been won, then realised that the argument still wasn't resolved at all and fell into a grumpy muttering. "I was right, alright? They are trouble" he whispered to the leaves around his aching body.

"I have had enough of this!" Robin paced around the camp as he shouted at his men "What kind of way is this to solve a problem?! Did you support it when I tried it on Gisbourne?!"

"No, well, that was different you see…" Allan tried but was silenced by a fierce glare from Robin. It was probably best to stay silent.

"That was different, you are right" Robin continued "Sir Guy is a man who committed high treason and tried his best to kill me while he was at it. You, on the other hand, are supposed to be friends! What is this?! Is this what these Butcher sisters do to men? Then I must give you some credit Allan… They are nothing but trouble, you were right"

Will opened his mouth to disagree with him, but seemed to change his mind and just shut his mouth again without a sound.

"Good on you, Will" Robin said "You are a clever boy to stay silent now. The both of you shall listen to me, you shall listen hard and you will obey my orders" He paced around the camp for a while to collect his thoughts before he continued "I know my own actions have not always been a pride to you. But I am your leader and in this matter I am unbiased. I chose not to interfere before now since I thought you needed to get this out of your system. It seemed that plan backfired- this obviously runs deeper that I expected. We'll have to resolve the fight first" Robin sighed and rubbed his brow with a weary expression "Allan" he continued "Will has a perfectly normal-sized penis and he looks very masculine compared to Djaq. Say you're sorry"

"Sorry…" Allan mumbled.

"Louder!" Much interposed "When my master tells you to ask for forgiveness he expects the other part to actually hear it you know. And you better mean it as well! I have seen Will's manly parts and they are very impressive"

"Sorry!" Allan said with one rather puzzled eye still aimed at Much "I didn't mean that… stuff"

"You were being funny?" Will scoffed under a rather wild blush that he found it impossible to conceal. Allan mocking his private parts during the fight was nothing compared to this.

"Oh, shut up Will!" Robin exclaimed "Your turn. You have no right to pass judgement over Allan's mother, say that you are sorry!"

"I'm sorry Allan" Will still looked flushed "I didn't even know your mother"

"Nah, it is okay" Allan said "You would probably find yourself to be right in your assumptions if you did, mind you"

"Right, then that part is resolved" Robin continued "As to the part where you called each other bastards- that I can agree with. Now for the underlying reason: Katie has obviously committed grave crimes, Will not trusting her is understandable. But Katie has also helped us, and I will admit that I like the girl. She gave me the ring back and she is very clever. As for Vix… well she shares Sir Guy's bed, that is quite bad but no crime. The solution to all this is very simple though. Whatever they have done, are doing or might do in the future, these sisters has torn up a gash right through this camp. They make dear friends fight, and that I can not allow! Not now, not when things are this… fragile" He fell silent for a while to let the words sink in. Both men seemed calmed, if not pleased with the turn of events. "We will have nothing more to do with them, no secret meetings, no more letting them help us, no nothing. These are my orders- I will not be contradicted in this matter!"

Robin was surprised to find that he wasn't opposed by either of the two men. They pitied him, he thought. His men didn't contradict him because they thought him frail and weakened by sorrow. They were probably right. And no one seemed to remember that there was something else that needed to be considered during this unpleasant supper. He let himself sink down into his thoughts again, drifting of into fluffy memories that soothed his weary mind when he was too tired for brooding. He absentmindedly carved some arrows but could see that the quality would be poor even before he finished them.

"Master" Much finally said "How was My Lady Marian? What are we to do about that?"

"She was tired" Robin answered and felt sick from the reminiscence "We wait. There is nothing much else we can do"

"Wait for what?"

Robin was silent, he didn't like that question. It was a stupid horrible question with no answer, a question that made him cold into the bones and dizzy with paralyzing fear and helplessness. Wait for what? That a brilliant idea would suddenly fly out of the bushes? That the king would return before the winter fell? That Vaysey would turn nice all of a sudden or get tired of this game and release her?

"Her father is trying to pull strings" Robin finally said with an exhausted sigh "We wait for that"

And after that we wait for something else, he silently added and tried not to crumble under the overwhelming feeling of being completely and utterly powerless. There had to be a way!

_What if…_Robin thought to himself where he sat lost from the world once again … _What if there isn't a way?_

---

These were the weeks when autumn fell over Sherwood Forest- first slowly and then all of a sudden. The last of the green was washed away from the leaves that got painted in golden colours and fell gracefully to the ground- and the winds grew chillier and harsher and pulled the big braches, making them swing and dance with low creaking noises over the outlaws' camp. It was a breathtakingly beautiful sight for those that stopped to watch it; nothing dies with more poise than a forest.

Yet it didn't die, Will Scarlet reminded himself as he took in the beloved trees that seemed older than time itself, it simply went to sleep. He used to care for the forest in a way only a carpenter can, knowing exactly what could be crafted from the trunks and branches he saw possibilities in every tree. These days his relation to the trees were slightly different, they provided shelter and hiding and somehow felt friendly the way they guarded the outlaws. When he went into Nottingham and left the golden forest behind it was with an uneasy feeling of being vulnerable, even though visits in town had been more than frequent during the weeks since Marian's conviction. He just didn't seem to get used to the nakedness of the grey stones and the weary expressions in people's faces.

He went into town this afternoon to take watch. It was his turn even though he hated the last shift, hated the way Marian looked as another day in the pillory went toward its end. Thus he stood sheltered in one of the many hiding places that the outlaw's spent their days lurking in- looking over at the pitiful lady that stood locked into a wooden structure in the middle of the town square. People had stopped noticing her, they gave her glances as they passed but with no more interest than they paid the windows in the surrounding houses. Not even the guards seemed to take much interest in her, bored as they were by the dreary guarding part of their profession.

Marian looked as she always did during the last shift, tired with her throat resting uncomfortably on the wood and the dirty hair hanging down as a curtain, draping her features and hiding them from the world. Every now and then an uncontrollable shutter or spasm seemed to pull her limbs, making them twitch and shake. He hated this, Will Scarlet thought once again, hated it and hated it and hated it more and more for every day. Djaq had told them to watch her carefully for any sign of deterioration of her condition- knowing that the slightest cough could be fatal for someone this weakened. The problem was that the deterioration seemed to come much like the autumn; first to slow to seem important and then you would all of a sudden find yourself chocked by the state she was in. Her body was much thinner after the weeks in the pillory, but the change in her spirits was worst. This strong, brave woman seemed more and more broken down for every day- her face that used to be so proud and bold looked dejected and exhausted. But in spite of that there was still something in her that brought hope to Will and the outlaws- a certain fire in her eyes, the way she always walked to and from her punishment instead of letting herself be carried, a smile that she reserved for the rare occasions when she discovered one of the outlaws watching her. Something in her still wanted to live, and it was that something that Will found himself looking for in her body this Friday evening. Content to find her not worse off than on his last visit, he allowed himself to relax a little, leaning towards the wall and waiting for the twilight to release Marian once again.

"It seems you live a solitary life without me Will Scarlet"

Will felt a blush forming on his cheeks as he found Vix Butcher by his side. This was partly due to the way her breast gently brushed against his arm, and partly due to feeling utterly ashamed of not missing her more than he had. In truth for someone who made such an impact on the young man she had proved to be rather easily forgotten. The atmosphere in the camp had been scarred after the fight. Will found it impossible to talk with Allan and while Djaq had always proved to be a dear friend in the past, she now seemed aloof and distant. As for Much he was preoccupied with his worries for Robin and Robin was… well there was no Robin. That really only left Little John and no matter how much Will liked the big man, he wasn't very talkative. It all left very little room for missing Vix, and to see Marian get worse as the weather changed towards colder times was yet another worry. This was not the time to disobey Robin's orders.

"I'm not supposed to talk to you" Will said and tried to keep his eyes from the beautiful face that looked up at him with such a charming expression.

"Really? What a shame. May I ask the reason for this?"

Will could hear an edge in Vix's voice that he hadn't heard before, a constrained anger that surprised him.

"Well" he said "It's just that Robin told me not to"

"Oh! And what is he, your mum?"

"No!" Will sighed and looked at her, feeling his heart leap as he did so. "He's having a hard time" he tried to explain "With Marian… Well it's breaking him to be honest. We are all rather worried about him. And we can wait- you and me… Can't we?"

"Well I miss you terribly!" Vix burst out in a voice that didn't fit the words. Then she seemed to calm down as something he said cached her attention. "Why is this with Marian breaking him? They are old lovers, is that why?"

"Well not old lovers exactly. They are engaged"

Vix's sudden silence made Will watch her again, taking his eyes from the shivering Marian only to discover a delightful almost thrilled expression in the red headed woman's face.

"Engaged?!" she exclaimed "Oh!"

"Yes and that is why I can't see you. Do you understand? I can't make Robin upset now" then Will was struck by something "But you could help us perhaps? Think of a way to help Marian?"

Vix looked up at him with a puzzled look, as if she was surprised to find him still there.

"Yes" she said "I understand. I will think about it" A warm smile spread across her face "You're a sweet boy, Will Scarlet, thank you"

Vix gave Will a light kiss and then walked away into the castle, leaving him to watch her with confusion and desire pulsating through the young body. It was true, she had missed him. Sir Guy's gloominess was starting to annoy her and the fact was she had a reason for being in Nottingham. Will Scarlet, that easily seduced boy, he suited that reason very well. Influence, she thought, influence and information- sometimes it came in the form of tender young lamb meat and sometimes as a big black wolf. Now Will had unknowingly given her another piece of this fascinating puzzle that would eventually lead to her- Vix Butcher- being a very wealthy woman.

---

Vix Butcher rested herself on Sir Guy's chest, blowing teasingly to tickle her lover's bare skin ever so gently. He was tense, displeased with the day and brooding- the mood she hated the most in her men. She did her best to plan her actions, gathering the information she had. She knew about Sir Guy's weakness, his rage and love for Marian, and she knew about the agony Robin Hood now was facing as his weakness- ironically the same one that haunted Guy- was facing a punishment. She also knew that this woman who made men so weak was in fact the Night Watchman. That knowledge was enough for her to stir things up quite a bit.

"What makes a man bad?" Sir Guy suddenly burst out, shifting his position so that she fell off and was forced to support herself on her elbow. She sighed, deciding to play along even though this bored her immensely.

"No one is bad" she said "No one is good. It's all a matter of angle"

"People seem to think I am a bad man" he mused.

"Do you think you are bad?" she often answered questions by throwing back another one, it was all in line with her policy that receiving information was better than delivering it. Guy seemed to contemplate this briefly then answered without doubt.

"No" he said "I'm loyal. I follow orders and know my place. Yet…"

"Yet?"

"Yet… People seem to think that I am bad. I'm cruel perhaps but crimes must be punished! Order must be upheld"

"And do you enjoy that Sir Guy? 'Upholding order'?" Vix smiled- the well hidden accusation behind her words was too vague to make him lash out at her.

"Yes" he said "And that is what I ask God for forgiveness for"

She yawned and stretched her perfectly hourglass-shaped body- pushing herself up to a sitting position. "I have met worse men" she said and escaped from the conversation by turning her back at him. Philosophy and brooding was not her piece of cake.

Sir Guy watched the beautiful red headed woman get dressed- she did it effortlessly with a grace that he had never seen in any of the women he had shared a bed with. Somehow she made it into an art, he thought, then turned away from her with a displeased expression in his face. She was a prostitute, she got dressed as a prostitute, she moved as one. She was a poor substitute for Marian.

Marian. He felt the old familiar tingling sensation in his abdomen at the thought of the beautiful noblewoman. Beautiful but fallen, he corrected himself- beautiful only on the outside. It was right that she paid for her crimes! So why did he feel so mad at the sheriff, why had he wanted to embrace her when she fell, blow her scorched skin better and cover her bare shoulder up? It was all so frustrating!

Gisbourne didn't want the sheriff to have this power over Marian- if she was to be punished he wanted to get back at her in his own way. He wasn't even sure about the full extent of her crimes yet- how close she was to Robin Hood and the Night Watchman. The thought of these two outlaws made the last of the love-making's subsequent drowsiness fade from him- how they had scorned him! Stealing his money, stealing his wife… No matter how much he robbed this Robin of Locksley of what was his that brat always seemed to land on his feet. Somehow he won even though he lost- lost his land and title and status, lost his betrothed. How did he end up the winner when he was deprived of everything that should matter!? Robin Hood won the things that can't be forced- he won the 'love' and 'respect'- he won everything that turned out to matter in the end. He went from being a Lord to being a Hero, Sir Guy thought bitterly. Now wasn't that a promotion…

Loyalty. That was the word. These thugs didn't understand the importance of loyalty.

"Guy" Vix Butchers husky voice was raised once more and she came to sit down on the bed- stroking Gisbourne playfully over the chest. "Poor Guy, what a troubled man you are"

'… Soon to be even more troubled' she silently added to herself and concealed a smile. He seemed to be a bit soothed by her compassion, his features softened and she could feel the tension in his muscles fade.

"We all have our crosses to carry" he mumbled.

"Yes but not always this heavy. How people lie and betray you… Play with you and use you. How you get bullied by the ones you love! They don't understand the value of loyalty do they? Loyalty and honesty"

It was strange how her words echoed his thoughts- mimicked them in a way that made him feel the old longing to be understood stir in his chest. He didn't wish for _her_ understanding, but in this late hour it seemed better than nothing at all.

"No" he agreed "They don't understand the value of loyalty"

"Oh Guy, it is because of that I feel I must tell you something"

"What?" Sir Guy said, suddenly feeling on his guard. Well he had every right to be so, Vix thought, and gently scratched his chest, playing with the dark hairs to relax his tense body.

"Lady Marian" she said and watched him closely "She had a scar"

"A scar?!" Guy sat up in the bed "What has he done to her?! Tell me!"

"He? Oh, you mean Vaysey. No, this is an old scar Guy. In her abdomen, as if someone had attempted to slice her open to see what malice she carries inside" she watched the expression in Gisbournes face, first confusion, then he looked increasingly exasperated as reality slowly hit him- a realisation that still was tainted by doubts but that won ground "She has another scar too…" Vix continued. It was time to go in for the kill- and she felt the old familiar excitement rise in her body- forcing her to swallow a loud, victorious laughter to hinder it from escaping her lips. "… on her left arm" She moved away from the bed before she threw out the finishing punch line "I think, Sir Guy…" she said and smiled "…that you will find that Lady Marian is exactly what you have been looking for. Just in a completely different way than you imagined"

Gisbourne didn't watch Vix Butcher when she left the room. His mind had been washed clean from everything but an aching, devastating rage as the full extent of Lady Marian's treason hit him again and again and again.

A man can life a lifetime haunted by "what if"-s.

What if, what if.

What if Vix Butcher hadn't told Sir Guy that the infamous Night Watchman was in fact a stubborn noble woman by the name of Lady Marian Fitzwater…?


	9. Nightmares

Chapter 9: Nightmares

The Sundays were her resting day. Marian had never been more thankful to God than those mornings when she woke up and realised that there would be no time in the pillory, simply because at the dawn of time the Lord had decided that the seventh day would be one of rest, and even the Godless sheriff obeyed Him in that. She learned over the weeks that luxuries are a relative thing, and a day spent lying down in damp mouldy hay now felt like her small piece of heaven. Thus it was most unsettling to her when she found herself being collected by the guards, even though it was Sunday, and lead through the corridors of Nottingham castle. They didn't take her up to the normal living quarters, but neither out towards the town square. Instead she walked through narrow corridors, occupied by servants and soldiers, witch she hardly knew at all.

"Where do you take me?" she inquired "I demand an answer!"

"You're not in the position to make any demands My Lady" Guard Peter said and smiled gently at her "We are told not to tell you, I'm sorry. You will find out soon enough"

She nodded at him. This was a guard that she had come to like over the weeks, and she could hear that the regretful tone of his voice was one of compassion. They pushed her ahead, careful not to hurt her, and crossed a hall that she realised must be part of the city guard's quarters, where they ate and slept while on duty, and further into a smaller room on the other side. It was rather light and a big round table occupied most of it- perhaps used for strategy planning or meetings- and she went up to a cushioned bench by the window.

"God be with you" Guard Peter said, and smiled sadly at her before he left and locked the door behind him.

Marian felt perplexed where she sat- unable to make out if this was indeed good news or bad. She was tired and dirty, felt weak as if this stubborn willpower was all that really kept her alive, and it would be so wonderful to just let go of it all. Death didn't scare her anymore- rather it felt like a salvation- but the thought of leaving Robin to his demons, her father alone with his troubles, the peasants still hungry and in need of help, made her force herself not to give in. She smiled sadly when she realised that she was in fact living because people needed her to, and it was so typically Marian-esque; to be needed was her greatest weakness. She helped the people because they needed her, she stayed by her fathers side and almost married Gisbourne because her father (and perhaps even Sir Guy) needed her, and she had ultimately walked out of her marriage because of those last words that Much shouted at her: _He needs you. _Marian needed to be needed.

It was almost half an hour before the door finally creaked open and Marian felt her body tense as Sir Guy entered the room. She watched his features in awe trying to make out his mood- the stone cold face was occupied by a smirk that seemed entirely joyless- and realised that this was likely to be bad news. She must have been taken to these remote areas of the castle because the sheriff wasn't a part of this- it was Sir Guy's business and he wanted to keep them a secret. That meant it was personal, and the complete lack of softness and compassion in him made her heart pound hard in her chest from a paralyzing fear.

"Marian" Sir Guy said, raising his eyebrows in a rather sarcastic way "Lovely as ever"

"Guy, why have you taken me here? It is my day off"

Guy's vicious smirk grew wider in his face "Your day off" he laughed "You make it sound like a work, yet you do no good and you don't get paid. Why you are here you as me? Well, I was rather hoping that you could answer that. What is it with this martyrdom Marian? Is it so difficult to simply tell the truth?"

"What truth?" she called out. "Sir Guy you have no right to keep me here, I'm sure the sheriff doesn't know and I am not your personal little crusade you know"

"You should be glad to be here" Sir Guy went over to a small table and pored himself a glass of wine "If the sheriff knew what I do, then you would be hanged before nightfall"

Marian suddenly felt the air grow heavy between them, breathing became difficult and she gasped for air. What did he know?!

"No answer?" Guy said and smiled as he walked over to her "You know what this wine remind me of?"

"No"

He laughed dryly "I once stabbed a thug with my dagger, a masked villain who worked side by side with Robin Hood and robbed me of my fortune. I worked so hard to acquire that fortune- I acquired it for you, to be able to provide for you when you became my wife. I thought I killed that villain, but I was mistaken, she was merely wounded. Her blood had the same colour as this wine" he smirked as he saw the terrified expression in Marian's face as she slowly realised what was written between his words, then he grabbed her hair and threw her down onto the floor. She heard herself giving out a loud little yell of surprise and pain, and then bit her lip- she would not give him the satisfaction. "Do you remember when I told you that betrayal was the worst crime a man could commit? The same applies for women" he spat at her. She turned to him from her position at the floor- saw that his smile had faded and given way to pure rage- and tried to collect her thoughts. They were so shattered, so unprepared for this, and she was so tired…

"I'm…" she said "I don't know what you are talking about" Oh that is bright Marian! Was that the best you could come up with? She cursed herself when he saw the reaction her words had on him.

Sir Guy crouched down beside her, grabbed on to her hair again and pulled her head back so that their faces were only inches from each other. He was shaking- she could feel the tension in his body building up more and more, and his features looked almost completely deprived of sanity. Her scalp hurt from his grip and her breathing came in sharp gasps.

"You still lie!" he hissed "All this and you still can't tell the truth! You betrayed my loyalties in the worst of ways, I gave my heart to you and you stabbed me in the back! Am I still the bad guy Marian? What does that make you then; a heroine or the very worst of villains?"

"What will you do to me?" she said, too tired to resist any more "Will you kill me?"

"Kill you?" Guy smirked at her "I will take everything from you" He pushed her head down and she could feel his weight over her back, forcing her down with her front side pressed tightly to the floor. It was cold and hard, every bone in her thin body hurt and he was so incredibly heavy. Her breathing became laboured and strained, struggling to get air into the lungs that were squeezed together by the pressure.

"Everything?" she said and gave out a joyless, husky laughter "You really think you can take everything form a person? You can take my dignity, my life, my body, but you will never have my heart. That has always belonged to Robin and love can only be given. Is that not my worst crime Sir Guy? That I never loved you?" She was provoking him now, half-hoping that it would make him lash out on her and bring her frail body down to a quick death. Time would only make her dying worse- more painful and degrading. But to her surprise he hardly reacted to her words at all.

"You heart" he scoffed "I will wait until you are dead and cut it out with the same dagger that should have killed you already. Do you really think love is that precious? Killing you will give me something better still- it will give me Robin's heart. This will break him"

"He will kill you for hurting me"

"Well" Sir Guy laughed "We will see about that"

She felt his hand on her neck, gripping the neckline of her dress, and then the sensation of cold metal to her skin.

"This is the dagger that will strip you bare" he said and leaned forward to gingerly kiss her cheek. Then she could hear a ripping noise as he carefully tore the dress apart. He did it slowly- inch by inch he moved the dagger, pulled it towards him with a hard tug and caressed the naked skin as it was revealed to the world. She hated his touch, hated how it made her feel dirty and vulnerable. His breathing was heavy and fast and she could feel him restraining his growing excitement- feel him wanting her and craving her and finding pleasure in this moment of cruelty. This was her worst nightmare, and the only possible solace was the fact that her life would end within days. She shut her eyes and longed for Robin- longed for better days- longed for the loneliness in her cell- longed for death. A faint smile grazed her lips as she imagined that she was in Robin's warm embrace- he smiled at her and caressed her hair, hushed her tears and soothed her pain with his tender love. Her body was not her body any longer, for her mind had left it lying on the cold stone floor while she escaped into dreams.

Sir Guy must have noticed her drifting off, because all of a sudden she felt a sharp pain as he grabbed her arm and twisted it back. She gave out a short little yell.

"Why do you always leave me when we are having so much fun?" he said and started to turn her body over to lie on her back. Her eyes were filled with tears that couldn't be stopped, and she bit her lip while she avoided looking at him. _I am not here_, she told her self, _I am_…

Her thoughts were interrupted as the door to the room suddenly swung open and Sir Guy turned around with an infuriated look in his grim features. Then she saw the rage in his face getting mixed up with surprise and disgust as he got a clear view of the disturber.

"What…" Sir Guy hissed "… are youdoing here?!"

---

How much was it all about her?

In the weeks after Marian's conviction Robin found himself trapped in a level of hell that would make Dante blush, his thoughts too dark to be shared and yet the nightmares were worse still. He would dream about never-ending battlefields where he was lost under the merciless sun, where every corpse was the same as the next, Saracen and English alike in decay. He would know those bodies, know that he knew them once but unable to recognise them or remember the men they used to be, so he walked on under the crystal clear sky, trying to run but his legs felt heavy as if running through waist-deep water. There were no one alive but him and the battlefield never ended, it was deserted by life, deserted by God and Allah, deserted by men and birds. He would pass a body and know it so well, yet pass by it and recognise it too late as being Much or Allan or some other outlaw, when it was lost far, far away and he couldn't go back, couldn't apologise and cry by his fallen brother. During this dream Robin always knew with perfect clarity that all of this was ultimately his fault, he lost the battle, they all died because of him and there was no way to turn back time.

And then there was Marian. How much was about her? Nothing. Something. Everything. She wasn't there, yet the sky was he eyes and the sand was her skin and every drop of blood from the fallen soldiers was shed because of her. He knew he had to find her, and he turned to bodies dreading to see her face, but even though he knew them all so well he couldn't remember them and he didn't know if it was her. Her face was lost to him, her features forgotten. Everything forgotten, out of reach, everything lost to the sand and the sun of this never ending battlefield.

He would wake sweaty fro those dreams, silently screaming and pulling his arms tight to his shaking body, curling up as a child. These nightmares were unparalleled by anything he'd ever experienced before, be it in wake or sleep, and it made him dread the night so much he forced himself to stay conscious. Thus the weeks passed in a drowsy half-sleep, his vain attempts to solve the situation caused him fall into the kind of brooding that had once made him read the Qur'an in the holy land. He didn't notice the seasons changing until the first real autumn storm tore the camp apart, and he became cold with fear when he saw the golden beauty and remembered what it meant; that time did pass even though he felt like he was trapped in the horrible eternal moment when Marian decided to take the fall.

The same day that Marian spent with Sir Guy, facing all her greatest nightmares, Robin spent by a dark lake in the heart of Sherwood Forest. Much was washing the outlaw's dirty laundry in the icing cold water and hanging it to dry on the increasingly naked branches, and the rest of the men sat scattered in the leaves small talking with hushed voices. The picture was almost painfully picturesque. All the trees were clothed in golden autumn gowns and reflected themselves in the water surface as if they were admiring their own splendour. Now and then they shed a leaf that danced down much like a lady's silken glove offered to her chosen knight. Nature cared little for the troubles of mankind- it was serene and glorious even when it fell apart.

"My weapons trainer once gave me a question to think about" Robin suddenly said, addressing his manservant "If I was in a position where I had to choose between saving a beloved brother or 20 strangers, what would my choice be?"

"I remember that" Much answered and smiled gently "You said that you would find a way to save them all. The trainer- it was that awful man Garlot Snipple as I recall… come to think of it he used to taunt me for being chubby… Ha, he should see me now! That old sourpuss, he's probably dead as a rat by now. Dead as a dead rat- anyway he refused to let us off unless you made a real choice and you sulked for an hour to prove your point- whatever that was. Eventually you claimed that you would save the 20 strangers because it was the noble thing to do"

"I just wanted the dreary lesson to be over. I never expected to have to answer that question for real…" Robin sighed and threw a stone to the lake- saw it jump over the surface one, two, three times before it disappeared. It seemed strangely symbolic, and the two men stood silent and watched the ripples fade away leaving the dark lake calm again "What is a life worth Much?" Robin finally said "What is Marian's life worth to me? What is it worth to the world…?" He shook his head and bent down to pick up another flat stone from the ground, but remained crouched as if he had been frozen and looked up at his manservant. "Everything…" he stated sadly "…and nothing"

"A life is worth very little in the long run" The outlaws all turned towards Djaq who sat with her legs crossed a bit on the outside- as if she was just barely a part of this gang. Robin paced over to his men who remained silent while they waited for his response. Much noticed that Robin still had a habit of kicking the autumn leaves up in front of him like a playing child, leaving traces of naked soil to lay bare behind him.

"You are right Djaq" Robin said "Yet a single life can mean so much to us…" He spoke about this as if it was general thoughts, applying to the world as a whole and not just Marian. But it was all about her, and he felt tired, so tired, and scared and he had this feeling about being in a hurry but not knowing what he was late to, somehow suspecting that it was all far to late anyway. He felt a shudder run down his spine as the thoughts and feelings from his dreams echoed into reality. "We are running out of time" he mumbled, more to himself than to his men, but they all heard.

"Yes" Much said "Finally! We need to talk about this master. Have a meeting"

"We have meetings now?" Allan whined "What are we, 'the council of outlaws'?"

Robin smiled absently at him, and then a frown appeared on his forehead "The point of councils is to give the members influence, thus avoiding supreme power and power misuse. The council of outlaws is not such a bad idea actually" He dipped down his head into his palms and held it for a while, gently rubbing the temples, before he continued. "We need to talk to Sir Edward"

"You have a plan master?" Much said.

"No"

"Oh… Well, half a plan then? At the very least?" Much looked a bit puzzled "Why would we worry Eddie otherwise?"

"I don't have a plan. Not half a plan. Not… Not even a quarter of a plan" Robin sighed and shut his eyes. They needed to talk to Edward because in his weary tired mind that was the only hope he could master- that somehow Marian's father had found a way to save her where he himself had failed. "He might have pulled some strings. We go there tonight…" He appeared to drift of for a while before continuing on a seemingly new line of thoughts. He often did that these days, got distracted. "The autumn is coming..." he mumbled as he saw an oak leaf dance down beside him. He picked it up, spinning it in his hand to watch the colourful pattern twirl. "… The autumn is preparing its departure even" he continued "and then there will be winter…"

---

Sir Edward had half expected the outlaws to show up at his door step and wasn't surprised when the finally did. He watched Robin's face under the cloak, and saw the same fatigue in the young man's eyes that he felt himself but had attributed to old age. He dreaded this meeting, knew what had to be said and done and feared Robin's reaction- knowing that youngsters were not as easily resigned to fate as the elderly. He arranged a rather motley group of chairs and stools in front of the fireplace and the men sat down in a ragged half-circle.

"Well" Much was the first to speak "We are rather curious about how the string-pulling is proceeding, Sir Edward"

Edward sighed "There is nothing much I can do, I have few friends in the ranks now that Prince John is making England his" he said and Robin felt his heart skipping a beat in his chest. He had known this already- that his hope was vain- but it seemed impossible to prepare for. Hope stayed in Pandora's Box when all malice escaped and spread across the world, and when there is nothing left but hope then a human clings to it as if her life depended on it, no matter how faint and vain it seems to her. It is the last thing to leave us, and Robin was not prepared to let it go.

"There will be a way" he said "There must be!"

"Robin…." Edward looked at the young man, feeling a tender sadness overwhelm him as he did so. This boy loved his daughter so much, a good boy. In truth he could not wish for a better stepson, but fate would have it otherwise. "I can not save her, and if you do, then please consider the consequences. The friars in Knittle will suffer…"

"But not if we reveal her as the Nightwatchman first! Then the friars will be off the hook"

"…Even so, Marian will be outlawed and so will I. All the people depending on Knighton will suffer, much in the same way as the ones in Locksley"

"And we will help them in the same way that we help the people in Locksley" Robin said "Edward, trust me..."

"Robin I do trust you but you need to face the facts. If you save Marian then what are you going to do with her? Do not pretend you are unaware of her condition, I'm sure you have found ways to see her and must know how weakened she is. Would you take her to Sherwood?"

"A group is only as strong as its weakest member" Djaq interposed, making everyone turn to her. Her eyes were sad and compassionate as she looked at Robin- yet serious in a way that made Edward think that she was the only one who realised the full extent of the hopelessness of the situation. "The sheriff would hunt us down, knowing our weakness" she continued "and we will all die"

"She is right" Edward sighed "Marian would be the death of you if you took her and you know it"

Robin twisted in his chair- he seemed uncomfortable as if his skin was itching and he wanted nothing more than escape it. His eyes flickered between Edward's steady look and the physical room's unawareness of the tragedy it hosted.

"Well" he insisted "She would have to come with you, leave this place"

"Where, Robin? No one in this country would be foolish enough to take us in. Where would we go? Where?! Tell me?"

"I do not know?!" Robin exclaimed "Scotland perhaps? Normandy?" he felt his body shake and hated Sir Edward, hated him every inch of his soul, for making him to face up to the truth. Then he forced himself to calm down, realising that he was letting his feelings take over. "…Or Tír na n-Oc" he said with a resigned sigh and leaned his head in his palms.

"Tír na n-Oc?" Allan asked "Where is that, Wales?"

"It's a Celtic fairy world of eternal youth" Much explained "My master is trying to be funny"

"Ah, well I'm not being funny but I think Normandy might be better then"

Edward frowned as he watched the outlaws. "We can't go to Normandy" he said "The weather is already trying for my old body, and then the winter will come. Marian is weak and so am I. England is a hostile country to travel through in times like these, we wouldn't make it"

"Then we would have to come with you!" Robin called out. He was desperate now, clinging to whatever little hope he could find and refusing to let go. "We would escort you!"

"And leave Nottingham to the sheriff?! Robin, I am only asking you to see what Marian has already seen: That her life, no matter how much we treasure it, is just one life. She chose to sacrifice it and asks of us to do the same. For her Robin- for Marian and for England"

"Robin" Djaq said and looked over at the outlaws' leader who now sat with his desperate eyes staring into the fireplace- as if he was trying to force the world to succumb to his willpower alone. "We are going to lose this one" she said in her simple way. "This battle, we can not win. My brother, he was wounded from battle. We left him in the sand. We left him alive- left him to die. But we all lived" she shook her head sadly- then stated with confidence in her soft voice "We have to lose this battle Robin. Save the 20 strangers"

Robin shook his head. "There must be a way…" he said, but his voice sounded distant, neutral and indifferent. It was speaking the words it was expected to speak, had gained a life on its own away from the buzzing thoughts that held him captive and paralyzed him. He couldn't face this, how could he have been so stupid as to think that he was ready for this conversation?! Djaq's words were a dagger to his throat, a rope to his neck. They made everything real. Robin was no fool, he might be world-weary and trapped in a romantic fantasy gone sour, but he knew the consequences of this meeting with perfect clarity. Either he lead his men into a crazy war to save the love of his life, sacrificing strangers and friends in the way all wars claimed its casualties. Or the waiting stopped today- no more hope, no more planning a rescue, no more Marian. Robin Hood, the outlaw hero, the king's man, lord and lawless, warrior and lover- the man who never gave up on anyone would have to give up on the only one that really mattered in the end. Somehow he always knew what the result would have to be, but Djaq's words made it painfully real, and right now he hated her for it, as he hated Sir Edward and every one of the outlaws who simply sat there in silence.

"I would give my life for her" he whispered, his voice trembled a little as if it was about to break.

"I'm not being funny mate" Allan said "but you give your life for a whole range of things" It was a rather tactless statement, but the Robin simply watched Allan with a dejected expression in his face- his vision was getting blurred from tears that wanted to fight their way out.

"I would give up the cause for her" he continued in a hushed, husky voice "I would gladly give up England to save her"

"I know you would, son" Edward said, addressing Robin in a way he hadn't done for five years. The way he saw it Robin became part of his responsibility by loving Marian - her blood connected them even though there were no laws to bind them together. He would care for this boy and cherish his life, but first he had to break his heart to make him see sense in this senseless world. "I know you want to save her, but it wouldn't be right. Would Marian even love you if you sacrificed all those people for her? I think not"

"I don't care if she loves me or not! I just want her to live!"

"You think it is that simple? You can't change something just because you want to Robin!" Edward exclaimed and was taken aback by the look in Robin's face; his eyes stared wildly at him in shock at the words he'd just spoken.

"Marian said that to me once…" the young man whispered. He couldn't do this anymore, his body trembled and he couldn't sit still. With a sudden movement he rose from the chair and started to walk away from it all- leaving his friends to follow him best they could. When they arrived at the camp Robin went right trough it, and the outlaws hesitated a while before sitting down around the fireplace instead of following him. They remained seated in an uneasy silence as their leader strolled off- the rustling of the leaves became fainter and fainter and then they couldn't hear him at all until an eerie scream echoed through the forest. Much shifted a little as if preparing to rise but felt Djaq's hand on his arm gently holding him back.

"No Much" she said, her eyes pleading "Trust me, let him be"

Reluctantly Much sat down again. The wind blew through the foliage and the leaves made their little dance around the camp, twisting and turning and every now and then they twirled into the fire only to instantly get devoured by the flames. Robin's scream went on in the distance, first it seemed filled with rage against the world, then panic and desperation took over before it landed in an overwhelmed, heartbreaking cry of pure pain. It got jagged and broke off into periods of silence that must be sobs and then it disappeared completely.

"Well" Alan said and looked at the group of outlaws that sat sad and troubled around the fire. "That's it then"

"Yes" Djaq said "That's it"

"What was that you said about your brother being left behind Djaq?" Will suddenly inquired. Djaq shut her eyes; she had hoped they had all forgotten about that, but apparently they needed some sort of distraction. She might as well tell them.

"Our camp was attacked" she started, telling the tale in short sentences "He was injured. We couldn't bring him. My father had died instantly in the attack. I took my mother into town and posed as Djaq to protect and care for us. It was either that or prostitution. We all have to make choices. The price I paid for mine was the extermination of Safiia" she smiled sadly "The price Marian pays for her choice is herself. She must have known that all along- she is expecting Robin to make the same sacrifice. He is wise to obey her"

"I'm not being funny…" Allan said and got an irritated glance from Much "… but I would have chosen to save a loved one rather than 20 strangers. 20 aren't all that many anyway, mind you. And it's not like they are all doomed- just slightly jeopardised that's all"

"Really" Djaq said- her voice sour by sarcasm "How many lives is a loved one worth then Allan?"

He shrugged his shoulders, then he smirked and stated in a very bad attempt to be funny; "I think the number might be 42, love"

---

He was still waiting for a miracle. The realisation made Robin smile at how pitiful he was - clinging to this hope though it should have been shattered- and he could see his men exchanging worried looks over the strange smirk in his face. They had made their way into Nottingham; the weeks of watching Marian had forced them to find a certain routine in getting into town and they now did it with an ease that would have the sheriff horrified. It was Monday morning and they had come to say goodbye. It was a silly time to hold on to hope, one would think.

"We stay here today" Robin said "Then I must get into the castle by nightfall"

"Master that is insane, you will get caught for sure!" Much looked upset.

"Why is that? We have been in the castle a million times by now, the butchers can help us. I know I said we shouldn't speak to them any more, but… well" Robin sighed "I need to see her… I will ask her if she wants to be rescued and obey whatever answer she gives me"

"She will tell you to let her go" Will said.

"Yes. She will" Robin pushed back the emotions and took a deep breath- to say that this was difficult would be the king of understatements.

They remained silent for a while as they zigzagged towards the town square.

"You will let her go then?" Djaq finally said "You can do that?"

Robin shut his eyes, trying not to resent his friends- they had done nothing wrong after all- but found it difficult is spite of his better judgement. They didn't love her enough, that was the only crime they committed, yet it seemed so grave to him. "Yes" he said "Then I will ask her if she wants me to kill her rather than being slowly broken by the sheriff"

"Master!" Much exclaimed and looked at him horrified "That… You will upset God!"

"God!" Robin snorted "If he wants to send me to hell for the one time I kill out of love, then so be it" Marian would die anyway, he knew that for sure despite of all futile hope. If he told her he had given up then so would she, he was the one that guarded whatever little hope she had, he harboured it for her, and without hope she would choose to fade away. Slowly. Painfully. A horrible degrading death. He had to give her a choice at lest, a chance to die in his loving embrace, yet he knew she wouldn't take it.

_Marian. _He swallowed his tears as the thought of her overwhelmed him. Soon he would see her, he would watch her in that horrible pillory and know that she still hoped for a way out, and he would have to be strong and brave. How vain it felt, to try and be a hero and a man when he felt so weak. There was something about him where he walked through Nottingham that would have proved a better disguise than any cloak; no one would ever expect the real Robin Hood to look this utterly vulnerable.

"Master…" Much words pushed through veil the grief and Robin turned his attention to his men, only to find them looking completely taken aback.

"What Much?"

"Well… It's just that well, Marian… master… _Where is she_?!"

Robin frowned and turned to the place where the pillory stood and the sight made him gasp with surprise. It was indeed empty, deprived of Marian's thin white neck and wrists, and looking almost absurd where it stood abandoned in the faint morning-sun.

"No!" he exclaimed "Where is she! No! Not yet… she… I'm not ready!" His mind was slipping, trying to find solid ground but found none. She couldn't be gone already! He hadn't had the time to say goodbye… With rising panic he tried to remember what her last words to him had been and felt a pang when he remembered her drowsy voice mumbling _'Your Latin still sounds terrible'_…

"Master look, the sheriff" Much exclaimed and shook Robin to force him out of his trance. "The sheriff is up there and he doesn't look happy. Witch is good for us I think"

Robin frowned. Yes that was good for them, if Marian was dead (yet she would die anyway, he reminded himself, so the hope he now felt was in vain) then the sheriff would be dancing and shouting out the good news. Now he simply paced around looking infuriated, and Robin made his way closer to hear was he was saying.

"… that insolent useless love struck fool of a man, when I get my hands on him… I'll… I'll rip his leather into tiny shreds and feed them to the pigs! And then I'll make him wear a dress… red I think... or blue, complementing his eyes… yes one of Matron Vix's dresses I think, I will like that, Gisbourne looking like a common harlot…. GISBOURNE!" The outlaws turned around to see Sir Guy riding into the scene accompanied by his guards, and the sheriff's yelling continued to echo over the square "Where have you been? Where is Lady Marian?! I demand an answer!" Yes where was Lady Marian? Robin could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the world seemed to have spun completely out of control and it really didn't make any sense at all.

Then they all saw her. Beside Gisbourne went a person dressed exactly as the Nightwatchman, the same cloak and mask, and she had her hands tied tightly behind her back. Only every one of the outlaws knew that it wasn't the Nightwatchman, because Marian didn't have that posture and composition, and the locks of hair that had made their way out from under the hood was definitely in the wrong colour. They watched in awe as Gisbourne brought the watchman up to the stage and threw her down in front of the sheriff.

"Here it is" Gisbourne said "This is the Nightwatchman. Marian's punishment is off according to your sentence"

"Off? Yes of course, where is she then? Surely not Knighton, I have made inquiries there already"

"I have taken care of her" Guy spit out "Do you not want to see who hides behind the mask?"

"Hm? Yes, yes let us unwrap the present" Vaysey clapped his hands together and smirked as Gisbourne forced the Nightwatchman to her feet and removed the mask and hood.

A gasp went through the outlaws as they watched the scene before them, feeling puzzled and completely taken aback by the sight.

"Wha…" Much said "What… why?! And is it really? It doesn't even look like her… really… It's… Oh Lord!"

"But it is her!" Djaq said.

"Allan..." Will looked over at his friend who stood perfectly still as he watched the woman by Gisbournes side; bright red curls blowing in the wind, the pale skin that looked like marble and the eyes- the eyes!- they were shining blue as the sky and sparkled with an inner fire that seemed to light her up from the inside. He thought in that moment that Much was wrong, he was so utterly mistaken, because she looked exactly like her, exactly like he saw her in his dreams and memories, and she was absolutely breathtakingly glorious!

"Allan!" Will said again giving him a light shuffle "Why in God's name is _Katie Butcher_ dressed as the Nightwatchman?!"


	10. Behind the Mask

Very fast updates now ppl. sry if you didn't get it marian, hopefully this clears things up a little bit. The storyline is quite complex.

Thanx for comments.

* * *

Chapter 10: Behind the Mask

Brother Alistair had been drinking a substantial amount of strong ale to calm himself before he dared to venture into Nottingham Castle. His last meeting with Sir Guy of Gisbourne was still painfully vivid- it had cost him his face. He had never been a pretty boy (and neither had he carried any vain hope as to become a handsome man with time), but after Sir Guy's 'special treatment' he now found himself looking so appalling that people sometimes took him for a leper. His left eye squinted under a drooping eyelid and the limited vision he had left on it was blurred and unfocused, but the nose was his biggest concern. It had been cracked and bent- too distorted to breathe through- and instead his mouth was always slightly open, drawing in air through the teeth with a panting whistling sound. Brother Alistair was a freak.

Someone had been throwing apples at Alistair from a castle window the last time he had left this godforsaken place, and thus he walked with awe over the Castle yard- cloaked as a thief in a hood and keeping close to the walls where shadows protected him. It took some persuasion to get a guard to agree to escort him to Sir Guy, but finally he found himself in front of a thick and very much closed door in the city guard's quarters.

"Right, Sir Guy is in here. But I really don't think he wants to be disturbed…" the guard said. Alistair snorted at him- after all he was nothing brute who knew nothing of the intrigues of the highborn.

"But he'll want to see me, alright?" he said, slowly mumbling the words in his usual manner of speaking. "We're mates, sort of"

"Okay, okay, don't say I didn't warn you though" the guard shrugged and opened the door.

Alistair tried to focus his one healthy eye to the scene was displayed before him, and then shied away slightly from it in surprise. Sir Guy sat straddling a young prostitute- a rather striking innocent looking woman, not like the ones he could afford- and then he realised that it wasn't a prostitute at all. In spite of the dishevelled torn clothes and messy hair there was no doubt that this was in fact Lady Marian Fitzwater. She cried silent tears where she lay under Gisbourne but still seemed strangely disconnected from the scene somehow.

Sir Guy turned towards Alistair with an infuriated look "What are _you_ doing here?!" he hissed.

"Ehm" Alistair answered, still rather preoccupied with the woman on the floor "Ehm I was to come if the cloth was up, and it is"

"What?!" the pure shock in Sir Guy's words forced Alistair to focus his one eye on the master of arms.

"It was in a shrubbery" he said.

"You fool!" Sir Guy bust out, restraining himself with some considerable effort "It was supposed to be tied to an apple tree! It has probably just been carried there by the wind!"

"Um, but there aren't any apple trees left… Your guys chopped them down. And anyway, the abbot says that it is right, or he got it so it must be right and stuff, you see, and he is bossing us around and fixing stuff"

Sir Guy sat for a while panting for air, seemingly oblivious to the noblewoman beneath him, and the friar realised that Marian no longer looked quite as disconnected. Instead she was staring at him in confusion and something that looked like puzzled gratitude.

"The cloth is up?" she said.

"Nothing to do with you" Alistair mumbled "Men's thingies"

"Men's thingies?" she repeated with a frown.

"Men's business I mean. Nothing for you to be bothered with"

"Oh"

"How's your dad?" Alistair continued after a while to break the uneasy silence in the room.

She looked at him, still perplexed and almost amazed by the absurdness of the situation "I think I better ask you that, Brother. I don't get out much really"

"Aha… no you seem to be in some sort of trouble"

"Aren't we all" she said with a hoarse little laughter.

"Well… God's ways and stuff… The weather has been nice"

"It has been weather" she answered, and then they fell silent as Alistair couldn't come to think of anything more to talk to a noblewoman about. He stood in the door and shifted his weight from one foot to the other- she lay on the floor with her exhausted body trembling in light ripples- and Gisbourne sat in a brooding silence, still straddling her with his features introverted and inaccessible.

Suddenly Sir Guy moved away from Marian, abruptly as if she burned him, and she climbed up to a chair dipping her had down into her hands to stop the world from spinning. The dress was torn half way down her back and opened up in a frayed v-shape- the skin strained over her spine and shoulder blades as she curved it, laying bare the ragged scar the sheriff's crowbar made when he had branded her as cattle. She thought that nothing made any sense. The world had been ripped to shreds and when she tried to put the pieces back together again they just wouldn't fit. It was a strange feeling of being so alien in your own body, not strictly belonging to the room where you sat but rather stuck in a madman's limbo. She breathed with some effort, sharp fast gasps that broke through the heavy silence around her.

"You are not the Nightwatchman then?" Sir Guy finally inquired, sounding puzzled but agitated.

She hesitated for a moment. Would she be wise to lie when that may only buy her time, maybe days, prolonging her suffering and agony? Would it be wise to tell the truth when in fact she didn't even comprehend the truth herself? In the end she decided to lie simply because it was easier than the elusive reality. You get used to most sins if you practise them enough to turn them into a habit, and the last couple of years had given Marian plenty of opportunities to perfect the art of deception. Lies came easy to her.

"Well?" Guy spurred her on.

"No" she said, her eyes still shut solid, her lips tight and strained. It seemed insane that she was here at all, absurd that this ugly friar dashed into the room and claimed to have proof that the Nightwatchman was coming. The simple facts were not so simple in the light of these resent events- that she was the Nightwatchman and she certainly wasn't going anywhere.

"Then I need to know, do you have a scar on you abdomen, as if made by a dagger? It is no use to lie. I do not value your virtue enough not to examine you myself"

"Yes" she heard herself say- absently thinking that her voice sounded surprisingly loud and clear considering the consequences.

Sir Guy's features darkened as if her answered cast a shadow over them "How" he spat at her "When did this happen?"

"I fell of my horse" she said "They had to cut me open. This all happened years ago but the scar never healed properly"

"Oh" Gisbourne seemed to contemplate her words "I see" He was inclined to believe her, preferred a world where she wasn't a villain, wasn't tainted by deception and sin. "Scars never really heal do they?" he mused before he turned to her again, suddenly as if something just struck him "Then what about your arm?"

"My arm?" She said, feeling a confused and slightly dizzy as if enveloped by a thick, suffocating fog.

"You left arm. Surely you do not have a scar there as well?"

"Oh… Oh my arm! Yes, I do have a scar there actually"

"That is a funny coincidence don't you think?!"

"It is, God must have it in for me" she smiled faintly.

"I think you will find this is no laughing matter. You will tell me about it!"

"Will you have me explain every scar on my body Sir Guy? I hardy think that is appropriate"

"Don't mock me! I warn you…"

"I… It is quite embarrassing…" she scrambled for a plausible explanation, then felt a sudden burning pain on her cheek and realised that Guy had lashed out at her. Her ear was ringing from the punch, she felt queasy and weak, so unprepared to take more strain to this body that only barley kept together.

"Guy. Please don't" she pleaded. Weak. So weak.

"You will tell me now! No more lies!"

"Yes" she said, trying to smile at him. He was so unpredictable, so very violent and rash. "I'm sorry, I will tell you. When Robin left for the Holy Land I… I sometimes sought comfort in pain"

"What…" he snorted "You harmed yourself?"

"Yes, I was young and foolish- I do not remember it with pride" _I do not remember it at all_, she silently added, none of this was real. She felt as if she was rehearsing a play and wished that she could know if it was a tragedy or a comedy.

"Indeed" he scoffed "You hurt yourself over that boy. What a stupid little girl, I would have thought you stronger. Is it all a façade then, Marian? Everything you do- everything you are? Lies and deception" He was throwing out the words at the world, arrows aimed at no specific target but reality itself. The barely restrained anger made him tremble.

"You are a cruel man Sir Guy" Marian whispered "You punish before the crime is even spoken- strike before you listen" There was a mocking sarcasm in her low voice, as if she actually had right on her side. It always shook her somewhat to realise what a skilled liar she had become. As she watched him, the grim face distorted in disgust, it suddenly struck her that it wasn't only rage- there was genuine pain in his features. As it was he who lost, not she, as if her fall was his punishment rather than hers. He was dangerous and uncontrollable not because he hated, but rather because in his sick, tainted way he loved. The problem was that she wasn't the Marian he loved, not really, yet he loved the idea of her so much, loved the illusion too much to let it go. Did he love the illusion enough to be willing to destroy the biggest threat to it? That threat was her, the Marian who lied to him, who loved Robin Hood, who went her own way, who fought her own war. Had fought her own war, she corrected herself. Somehow that Marian now felt as far away from her as this illusion Sir Guy harboured.

The feeling of not being the same person she once was suddenly overwhelmed her where she sat curled up on the oak chair. She was loosing herself- the one she used to be seemed out of reach and belonging only to the memories. Once upon a time she could remember feeling strong and brave, shrewd and clever and able, but it all seemed to have gotten lost in her struggles to survive. What could she possibly offer Robin now if she was to live through this? This ghost of a woman- another soul to care for who gave little in return- what kind of thing was that to award a man? She had nothing to give and she missed herself- missed herself so desperately! While Robin struggled not to drown in his feelings, Marian simply felt a weary sadness for all that was lost- she felt so _empty_.

Sir Guy stood brooding and irritated in the middle of the room, unsure what to believe and how to act. Marian seemed so weak now, so subdued by the prolonged, subtle kind of torture that the sheriff had condemned her to, and the bare back looked vulnerable and frail.

"Cover up" Sir Guy said and threw a cloak at Marian "We will go to Knittle. I need to collect my guards and then we take off. You come with us- I will get you a dress…" He opened his mouth to say something more to the pitiful noblewoman who looked so small and weak- perhaps to beg for her forgiveness- but stopped himself. When the rage had given way to confusion, also the lust he felt for her became tainted by an irritating tenderness. But it was irrational; she still betrayed him, still scorned him. Then the words she had spoken to him while she lay on the floor returned to Sir Guy with a painful pang: _"…you will never have my heart. That has always belonged to Robin and love can only be given. Is that not my worst crime Sir Guy? That I never loved you". _He watched her filled with rage and disgust, and once again he struck her hard across her face.

"Don't you dare mock me again Lady Marian" he spat at her "Nothing is forgotten!"

---

It took them time to get to Knittle, time to get the guards ready and time to ride the distance. The horses were warhorses of the very best breed but could just as well have been old mares- they had to walk so very slowly for Marian to keep her body steady in the saddle. She wished they hadn't forced her to ride it on her own, independence and pride was far beyond her priorities now, but in spite of that she found herself holding on to the reins of a large brown stallion. The strong animal was only barely under her control, and her hands being tied to a rope held by one of the guards didn't make it any easier. It was exhausting and the world was already being cloaked in a dusk evening light when they finally arrived at the monastery. Marian gripped the saddle and pulled her weak body down, but her legs couldn't carry her and her arms couldn't hold on to the horse. Instead she felt her body giving away, her legs folded under her and she fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

"Rise" Sir Guy commanded her, and she tried to obey but every effort only awarded her a feeble tremble. She had no strength at all, and finally she felt someone lifting her up and throwing her over the shoulder as she was a sack of grain. Her head bounced against the broad back of her carrier as they walked and she kept drifting of, her mind floating between unconsciousness and a foggy reality. At last she was put down onto some sort of bed, her head spinning in spite of being perfectly still, and she cried helplessly because she was so weak and the lack of control scared her. The fog thickened and she drifted off again, only to be woken by someone shaking her so hard it made her head roll from one side to the other as a ship in a storm.

"She is coming to her senses Sir" a voice said somewhere in the periphery of her consciousness. "Well, a little at least"

"Let her drink" Sir Guy answered, then something was pressed to her mouth and she felt drowned in cold water, suffocated by the flask even though it could hardly be more than a light ripple coming from it. She coughed, felt herself shake in spasms that pulled and tore her body, then gasped for air realising how dry her throat was. A moan escaped her lips as she tried to sound the only thing that came to her mind.

"What did she say, Sir?"

"Robin" Guy's voice was thick with anger, resentment, bitterness, pain even. "She said Robin. Leave her- we have more important matters to attend to. I have no obligation of being a nursemaid for a convicted prisoner"

"Yes, Sir"

She wished she could call them back, drink some more of the precious water, but they were gone. With a resigned sigh she let her mind fall back into the fogs in a sleep that bordered to unconsciousness.

---

There was this affair with the fallen noblewoman.

It was something about Lady Marian that had caught Katie's interest from the very first encounter, something beyond the fact that she had her loyalties with Robin Hood, something in the way she spoke to Katie with perfect honesty, something in her gentle stubborn courage, something soft yet hard that was so intriguing. During Marian's nights in the dungeon Katie would bring her food- putting in something extra just because it seemed right to do so- and tend to her burn mark. And Marian would talk, retelling memories of a past that belonged to a world far from Katie's, and she would do it in such a simple honest way- because it wasn't stories, it was a life that she decided to share. Sometimes Katie would find herself forgetting what she was doing and getting lost in the foreign reminiscence.

In the end we all need something to believe in, and perhaps it was a simple as that. Katie decided to help Marian because she needed to believe in something. But whatever her reason she made her decision the moment she found out about Marian being the Nightwatchman, and once Katie Butcher set her mind to something it was simply a matter of executing it step by step. No regrets, no second thoughts, no worrying about the consequences and no turning back. She started to transform herself to a plausible replica; cutting the skin on her abdomen open, then burning the shallow wound together again to make a nasty scar, and sewing a costume from stolen cloth. And then came the day when Vix arrived giggling to their shared room, saying that Sir Guy had been told about Marian's secret, and wasn't it all _wonderfully exciting_! Katie gave her sister a faint smile, and then waited until it was completely dark before she went out to place a piece of linen cloth in the Knittle monastery's garden.

The fact that all the apple trees had been cut down was the only thing that really annoyed her about the whole affair. It seemed such a waste and she put the cloth in a thorny shrubbery for no other reason then to be a nuisance.

They day that followed the placing of the cloth had been spent in the usual way, attending to her chores as well Vix's. When she was called to the city guard's quarters with a dress she was satisfied to find out that things were going according to schedule, and Marian wasn't dead yet. She would have gone through with the plan anyway, whatever happened, but it pleased her to see the noblewoman alive. Then came the night and she sneaked out to the edge of Sherwood Forest before she completed her disguise- taking on the mask and tucking in the red curls under the hood. The horse she rode wasn't stolen, she feared it would be tracked and cast a shadow over her plan. Instead she stole the money to buy the horse, an old farming animal that would have been slaughtered by Christmas if she hadn't taken care of it. Well, the poor thing would probably still be slaughtered by Christmas but at least he could have some fun in his autumn years. She put a gloved hand on his neck and stroked the animal tenderly- there was no place in this world for creatures like this horse and his rider.

It might be a surprise to those readers that think they know Katie Butcher by now to hear that she was genuinely afraid of the forest. For her it was something she could not control, a place where everything looked similar and, even worse, changed in unpredictable ways since it was built from living things. Her eyesight was rather limited in the darkness, with the mask covering most of her face, and through the round windows to the world she saw only the silhouettes of gigantic trees stretching their claw-like braches after her. Her heart pounded hard in her chest as the old horse attempted to fall into some sort of gallop- he displayed a considerable lack of enthusiasm faced with this adventure.

She thought the monastery looked ghastly in the dark. The main building stretched up towards the stars that twinkled in the dark-blue sky, lighted only by an ebony white almost full moon. This was a world built by shadows, only the most drastic contrasts stood out, and what would have been trees and houses, and even men, in the light were now merely featureless shapes stripped of colour and details. The horse (according to the farmer he carried the creative name 'Horsy') snorted and shook his big head, then bent down to close his lips around an apple that lay where it once fell from trees that was no more. She decided to leave him here where he seemed unreasonably happy, as a kid in a candy store, and started to make her way down to the shed.

There were guards in the bushes, they saw her and spread the news amongst their ranks in a way that was so indiscreet it made her gave out a low muffled chuckle. Soldiers were not fit for sneaking and crouching in shrubberies- chain mail makes a poor dressing choice when silence was preferable- but even dressed in the very best thief clothes these men would have been obvious. She wondered absently when they were to catch her, and hoped it wouldn't take too long since the clothes were itchy, and she hated the way the cloth covered her mouth and made her lips chapped and sore. Perhaps they would just kill her and have it over with. The thought of that didn't scare her nearly as much as the crooked claws from the trees in Sherwood Forest.

She found the shed where she expected it and kneeled down on the ground before the sack full of supplies. Some twigs broke behind her and then there was the feeling of cold sharp metal to her neck.

"I think you will find this game of yours is over Nightwatchman" Sir Guy said, his voice coming from above as if he was mounted on a horse in order to seem imposing.

Well, Katie thought, I think you will find this game of mine has just begun. She would not let the Nightwatchman fall without a fight, it seemed somehow dishonouring to the myth. What little fighting she knew was aimed at surviving, not winning, so she ducked down from the blade and rolled over, grabbing the guard around his knees and made tumble down. It was ridiculous, she didn't have a chance, yet she grabbed his sword and danced around the confused guards much as a teasing child. There was a major difference between the real Nightwatchman and Katie Butcher, one that Katie didn't have enough self-distance to reflect upon. Marian would never kill anyone. Katie, on the other hand, had killed, and if her survival instinct kicked in then she would do it again. Now this guard came right at her, and even though she realised by now that they took great care not to kill her- she lifted up the sword and thrust it into the unguarded skin of his throat, where the armour had an unfortunate weak spot. There was surprise in his face as she pulled out the sword, he grabbed on to his throat and fell down with a gurgling sound as the white skin on his fingers got drenched in liquid that looked black in the darkness. It was hypnotising to watch life ripple from a man, the limbs twitching helplessly before they got limp, and Katie found it impossible to continue the fight even though she didn't feel any regret or anguish over this brutality. The sword hung awkwardly in her hand, dangled and brushed lightly against the grass, and when a guard snatched it from her she simply let him. Someone bent her arms back, tied them hard with a hemp rope that cut into her soft skin. Then she was twisted around to face Sir Guy who had dismounted and stood with an aloof expression in the grim features. He seemed displeased rather than angry, annoyed with the inconvenience of a dead guard, and her very presence seemed to disturb him slightly.

"Well" he said and raised his eyebrows at her "We can add murder to your list of offences"

"So it seems" she said, and he twitched at the sound of her light soft voice.

"You are a woman!" he bust out and stepped up to rip the mask from her face. The sight seemed to take him aback slightly- a puzzled expression went over his features. "Katie!"

"Yes"

"You are the Nightwatchman?! You?"

"Yes"

"But… What about the work in the castle…Your sister!"

"Vix knows nothing. She would only steal for herself, not for anyone else" Katie gave him a faint smile "I am getting cold- will we go into Nottingham today or tomorrow? I think you would be wiser to wait"

He furrowed his brows and his voice still had a perplexed ring to it when he spoke "We wait The friars might as well keep us for the night, they have been subject to our hospitality after all" he said, referring to their stay in the dungeons "Leave the body for now! He's on holy ground, and more importantly, it is not our ground" Then he mounted his horse and Katie was partly shuffled partly dragged into the main building of the Knittle Monastery.

---

Marian was not the Nightwatchman. Once again Sir Guy found himself being mistaken about her. But it had all made such perfect sense to him! Her bloody sleeve at the archery competition, the fact that the Nightwatchman had known where his silver was, the close connection between the Nightwatchman and Robin Hood, the concentration of sightings around Knighton… Even Marian's compassionate, brave spirit fit into the picture. And what about the scars!? The coincidence was almost ridiculous. Strangely his rage hadn't faded from him by the realisation of her innocence- so perhaps her gravest crime really was that she did not love him. He shut his eyes, tried to gather his shattered thoughts. He would not sleep tonight, he would be troubled and worried about Her, hate Her and care for Herand try to understand Her, fail to understand Her and try to understand himself, fail to understand himself, fail to understand anything at all. She was his ghost, his demon, his fallen angel, she haunted him through wake and sleep and this ignorant stranglehold she held him in never ceased!

There was only one way to get rid of the plague that was Marian Fitzwater- only one way to haunt her out of his dreams and out of his life. Let it take time, but at least it would be down a road with no turning back, at least this nightmare would find some sort of end! Be it in tears, be it in pain, but let it end now, Sir Guy thought and leaned to the solid stone wall of the corridor for support.

He looked at the brother by his side- the crooked nose that was bumpy and useless from his punches, the drooping left eyelid- his face had never carried much beauty but now he resembled something evil out of a fairytale. The ugliness of the distorted face disgusted Sir Guy, yet made him feel rather pleased with himself as he considering it to be his humble creation. It was in the middle of the night and he had dragged Brother Alistair out of his sleep. The young man looked drowsy, even slower than usual, and yawned time and again in a way that made Sir Guy fantasise about the day when he didn't need this fallen friar any more. It would be a joy to kill him.

"Alistair" he said "Let it be known that I will not be sorry if Lady Marian is to die during her stay here" He looked the brother deep into his eyes, found it rather difficult to focus and realised with a light tingle in his stomach that the man must be almost blind on his left eye.

"Oh" Alistair said looking perplexed "But that will not happen. She is quite alright. She just needs to rest for a couple of days they say"

Sir Guy restrained himself. Perhaps it had been a mistake to aim so many punches at the young man's head; he seemed to become dumber for every encounter.

"No" he sighed "You do not understand me. I will _not _be sorry if it happens, and in fact…" he moistened his lips, trying to calm himself "… it will be _desirable _not if, but _when_ it happens. It is to be _expected_"

"Oh…" Sir Guy could see how the monk struggled to understand the situation "Oh… _Oh_! But surely you don't expect me to…? No of course not" Alistair smiled nervously. He was definitely getting dumber.

"Alistair!" Sir Guy grabbed on to the friar's robe over the shoulders and pushed him into the wall, resisting an urge to beat some sense into the man. He let go of him and shut his eyes, taking a deep shivering breath- he was sweating from the tension and rage that fizzled inside him. Then he fixated the one eye that seemed healthy and gave the friar a steady glare "You will kill Lady Marian" he said "But do it gently"

The brother complained, pleaded and begged not to be put in such a situation, he was only a simple man of the cloth! But Sir Guy was not in the mood of being contradicted, gave Alistair a punch in the belly and gingerly explained to him that the price of not killing Marian would be the death of Brother Alistair himself- surely such a misfortune would be unfortunate but regrettably inevitable in a case such as this.

Alistair belonged to Sir Guy, and in the end he really had no other choice than to obey him.


	11. Time is running out

I might say it right now- I am NOT a big fan of Sir Guy redemption or his 'softer side'. I find him more interesting when he is cruel and angsty. I doubt that Guy/Marian fans will like me much to be honest... I believe he could kill her if he is driven far enough, he might regret it after, but he is rather deep into near-madness in this fic before I made him do that. Anyway, if you find my solutions obvious or OOC then I'm sorry, but I have already had the story outlined since chapter 2 and I have all chapters up to 14 ready so pleading to me won't do you much good. ;)

Thanx for the comments anyway- they are much appreciated as always!

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Ch 11: Time is running out

"We need to find Marian!"

"Marian might be fine, Katie is…"

"… Not our problem! And Marian might not be fine at all. Allan…"

"Will what is wrong with you mate! Don't you have any respect for people?"

"Me? I have respect! The problem is that Katie doesn't. I would bet my right hand that this is a trap. She is in on it. What we need to do is find Marian"

"I'm not being funny, but I would bet my right testicle that Katie knows where Marian is. We save her first. She will help us!"

"That is ridiculous, we have already decided on not having anything to do with the Butcher sisters. And I'm sure you could afford loosing a testicle, this world hardly needs another a-Dale anyway"

"But that was before! Things have changed and… what do you mean this world doesn't need another a-Dale!? At least I got testicles"

Will gave out a loud sigh "Robin" he said, deciding that trying to reason with Allan was as futile as ever "Tell him"

"Tell him what Will?" The outlaw leader sat curled up against a tree with his face closed and introspective "That he must stop caring for his friend, who is incidentally about to be hanged for offences that have in fact been committed by my girlfriend? Doesn't seem fair does it?"

His voice was soft but authoritative when he spoke, as a man who tries to reason with children. He was tired of this, tired of the two best friends that wouldn't stop fighting, tired of everything falling a part and tired of being too tired to keep it together.

"Listen" he sighed and wearily rubbed his eyes "I want to find Marian more than anyone, but she isn't in Knighton and she isn't in Nottingham. England is big, we need a plan or we will wander in blindness. As for Katie, she won't be hanged for a week. That gives us plenty of time to decide on our actions"

"My brother didn't have plenty of time" Allan said, stating a fact rather than making an accusation "Katie saved Marian's life Robin. Surely that must count for something?"

"It does, Allan. It does. But Will got a point- this might be a trap. You said it yourself that she isn't trustworthy"

"But trust can be earned alright, and I think she has earned it now"

"Yes, that might be so…" Robin fell silent. There was a restrained desperation in Allan's way of moving his body and the anxiousness pushed through his words. Even though he didn't voice it literally he was in fact pleading; it couldn't have been more obvious had he fallen down on his knees in the leaves and folded his hands. Desperation was a feeling Robin knew well, but his worry for Marian was tearing him apart and this all felt so irrelevant. "What do you all think?" he said and turned to the other outlaws that sat shattered over the camp as castaways from a storm.

"Save Marian?" Much said shrugging his shoulders in a way that made it seem like a suggestion more than an opinion.

"Do you say that because you think that is what I want to hear?" Robin asked.

"Yes, well… Sorry. I just don't really know what to do Master"

"We do both" Little John stated "We find Marian and we save Katie"

Djaq frowned a little "But what if time is of the essence?" she said "What do we do first?"

"First… We find Marian" Little John said. "Then we save Katie. Better that way"

Robin tried not to let a sudden smile out, and the effort made his lips feel awkward and stiff. He felt so unreasonable relieved by Little John's words, it made his heart leap in irrational joy. The way John stated it as if there was no other way to go about things made it seem so wonderfully simple. He knew it was an illusion but hope was scarce these days, and he needed to be fooled, needed to believe. He avoided Allan's eyes, scared that his thoughts would show and knew that it was disloyal to feel this happy. He should feel bad about Katie being caught, he should be troubled by it, but instead it lighted a flame he thought had been permanently suffocated by the hands of destiny. Suddenly there was a way, the solution he had been waiting for tumbled out of nowhere. What should have been another crisis felt like a salvation- and he felt as guilty over these feelings as if it was he himself who put the snare around Katie's neck.

"Allan" he said and stepped over to the man who stood by himself with an air of frustrated helplessness. Robin put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him and looked him firmly in the eyes "We _will_ help Katie too"

Allan hesitated a moment before he nodded "Where do we start though?" he said, and Robin instantly found it very easy not to smile again.

"We split up" he said "Ask around. Someone must know something… A guard perhaps… or a servant… The villages and Nottingham"

"It will take time… and interrogate guards might prove just a tad difficult…"

"Yes, Much, thank you for stating the obvious"

"I'm just saying it's not much of a plan really. I mean Marian could be in some sort of peril. We might be in a hurry master. What do we do if..."

"…I do not know!" Robin yelled- then took a deep breath to calm himself "I do not know Much, but what else can we do? Do not be so negative, please, I…"

"It will be fine Robin" Djaq interrupted him "Look at us. We should all be dead… but we are not. We have solutions flying over our heads like magic, when all hope is lost, as if someone more powerful wants us to live. We have been saved again and again. God wills it, Allah wills it" she hesitated a while before she added "And if God does not will it this time then we must take comfort in the time…"

"Oh what is this, church?" Allan exclaimed "I'm not being funny but hanging around the camp looking for magical flying solutions might not be the brightest of plans…" he fell into an uneasy silence "…Amen" he finished with an embarrassed look to the treetops.

Robin smiled. "That is rather harsh Allan" he said and paced over to his bow and quiver, throwing them over his shoulder "You will go into Nottingham with Wi... with Djaq. Will and Little John take east of the great north-south road, cover all the biggest villages you can before nightfall. Much and I take the western side. We meet back at the camp at dusk" He hesitated a while before he added "… don't take detours outside the villages, our biggest chance is where people are"

"So what about Ecklestone Manor?"

"Ignore it, there's nothing but a useless old priest and that notorious milkmaid of his there anyway"

"And Knittle?"

Robin hesitated again… Knittle had a place in this complicated story, but it was also situated far off any beaten track.

"No" he finally said "If Marian is in Knittle then she will be among friends. We do not need to worry"

---

The reader will be glad to know that Robin was in fact right in this blissful moment. Marian, being in Knittle, was amongst friends for now. She slept as a child curled up between clean linen sheets, stirring but rarely and never completely from this slumber that boarded to death. The worried brothers watched her tenderly in shifts and wished they could send a message to her father, but there were still guards stationed outside the monastery and instead they simply cared for her as well as they could. It seemed clear that she would live through it, she was young and strong and would wake up in due time. As the hours went by, the friars relaxed and made up a schedule over the watch. The shift from the Sext at midday to the Noones around three in the afternoon would be handled by Brother Martin, and then Brother Carlus took over until the Vespers at dusk. After that the time between dusk and midnight would be handled by two novices, and finally the deepest night hours- between midnight and up to the night office- had been laid upon the hopeless Brother Alistair…

---

Sir Guy was feeling guilty. It was a sensation that he hated and it annoyed him immensely that it seemed to come over him in the worst of times. To his surprise it wasn't the affair with Marian that haunted him, even though that particular detail plagued him in numerous other ways- most notably through pain and grief. But he knew that that would let go of him eventually, when time turned her into a shadow he would find ways to cope with the loss and seek solace in the relief of being free at last. She had committed crimes and her death would be inevitable anyway- you couldn't go on continually challenging the sheriff and get away with it.

No it wasn't Lady Marian that made this guilt bud in Sir Guy's chest as a very tainted and thorny rose- it was in fact his treatment of the dead guard. This man had been a loyal subject who died in Gisbourne's service, he had earned respect. To leave his body lying in the grass over night had been a despicable and disloyal act, callous in a way that Sir Guy would like to think he wasn't capable of. When they had come to collect the corpse in the early morning hours it was to find that wild animals' had nibbled on it over night, and frost coated its eyelashes as salt crystals around the still slightly surprised eyes. There was dried blood in the crisp grass and when he ordered his guards to lift the stiff body the head had fallen back- opening up a gash in his throat as a second mouth that seemed to voice a silent accusation.

Sir Guy sighed and shifted his body in the chair where he sat in his office in Nottingham Castle. "This guard who died…" he asked his sergeant "who was he?"

"Simon Carver, My Lord" the sergeant answered. His voice was as correct as ever- impersonal like a sword.

"Simon Carver... Tell me did he have a family?"

"I believe he leaves a widow and two sons. A good woman"

"Hm. Well she will be compensated obviously" Sir Guy hesitated a while before he added "Ask Widow Carver if she needs a position, I such case I will speak for her. There will be an opening at the castle now that recent events have left us one maid short"

"Yes, My Lord"

Sir Guy felt quite pleased with his way of handling this matter, and smirked as he saw the sergeant leave. There was something wonderfully ironic about Katie's position being overtaken by the widow of a man she had killed.

When the sergeant opened the door he almost bumped into Vix Butcher who dashed into the room as if it was her room, in her castle, taking up space in her world none the less. Guy was slightly taken aback by the sight of her, this red headed vixen, in all her flaming glory. She was angry, no infuriated, and the sentiment suited her as nothing else, making her extraordinary, amazing, breathtaking- as if she had in fact been forged by fire rather than born into this world in the ordinary manner. He smiled at her and was rewarded with a piercing glare from the icing blue eyes. Then she threw down her hands at the table so hard it made his glass of wine jump down to the floor with a clang.

"_What_" she exclaimed "is my sister doing in the dungeons!? Your guards wouldn't tell me and now I'm afraid I have made them permanently childless"

"Vix, calm yourself" Sir Guy said. He felt a bit guilty again, but this time it was because of something that was in fact his job to do, and the feeling was rapidly drowning in the raw lust that rose as a tide in his body. "Your sister is responsible for her own actions"

"Her actions!? She has done nothing…" Vix hindered herself- then rephrased the sentence "She hasn't done anything to you!"

"To me? No… Well apart from callously killing one of my guards, but that was in the heat of battle. She has committed other crimes though, and not the kind we look upon lightly"

"What crimes?!" Vix called out, silently wondering witch of their many, many crimes that had been revealed, and why _she_ was still free.

"Vix…" Sir Guy stood up and paced over to the woman, caressing her shoulders in a way that seemed just a bit too hungry to be appropriate for the situation. Well, it wasn't like this was an appropriate woman anyway, he excused himself. "It's my regretful duty… No there is no easy way to say this. I'm sure it will come as some surprise to you to hear that your sister is The Nightwatchman"

"The Nightwatchman!?" Vix snorted- then stared at him disbelieving "She can't be! Hasn't this watchfigure been around for years!? We just came here!"

"If that is true then there will be witnesses to talk for her"

"There will be me"

"That won't help Vix, you are her sister. And I am sorry to say she was caught in action so to speak. She resisted the arrest and killed a guard"

"I'm… I… I"

Sir Guy didn't know it then, but what he now witnessed for a short period of time was something so unique that Vix would gladly kill him to stop him from telling the tale. In that room, with those news, Vera Butcher's beautifully crafted façade fell down- for a moment in time leaving her completely lost for words- defenceless and vulnerable as an infant. And she cried, just one silent tear but one that was far from theatres and fraud- it was and honest drop of salt, desperate pain. Then, as swift as an autumn wind, the peephole into her soul washed away and she smiled- a brilliant, smug grin that lighted up her features and made her seem perfectly delighted.

"Sir Guy, I seem to have changed my mind" she smirked "I have never met a worse man than you" Then she gave him a very intentional punch slightly below his abdomen and left the room as calm and proud as ever.

---

Dusk came and the friars of the abbey changed shifts- leaving two young novices to sit by Marian's bed. About the same time six exhausted outlaws returned to their base camp in Sherwood Forest, sweaty and worn out by the stressful situation. Robin waited in awe for everyone to gather around the campfire, scared to see their expressions, but the silence spoke as loudly as any words could. He leaned to a tree trunk and sunk down into the leaves with a sigh.

"So you found nothing?" he said, and then nodded to himself when he saw the shaking heads and heard the mumbling of regretful excuses.

"We spoke to the townspeople" Allan said "And they knew nothing much really… Tough some said that there had been some sort of retinue leaving the castle, Sir Guy with some guards and a lady. It was very vague…"

"We even questioned a guard" Djaq added.

"Yeah, Djaq did a girly thing n' all, but he was scared out of his wits. Said Sir Guy would kill him if he said stuff, and I'm not sure he knew anything in the first place"

"…and then his wife came…"

"… yeah that was so funny, she threw eggs at Djaq. So I said 'Oy! What are you doing to my gal'…"

"… and then you kissed me" Djaq laughed "You didn't have to do that Allan!"

"You kissed her!?" Will exclaimed.

"Well I'm not being funny, but she was supposed to be my chick- I was just giving my character some substance really. Forgive me for taking advantage of the situation… Anyway the wife didn't know anything either"

Robin nodded "Fair enough. Well, we heard nothing at all in the villages we visited" It had been a frustrating day, filled with one disappointment after the other "Will? John?"

"There were some very loose rumours of some guards heading in some direction, and moving very slowly as if they were out on a Sunday stroll" Will said. "But no one really knows anything at all Robin"

"The guards know" Robin insisted "You said he was just scared, Allan. We just have to make it clear that we are much scarier than Sir Guy… They know- they must know… Someone knows, you can' just hide a person forever. People will notice" It was true, hiding a person was difficult. Hiding a corpse, on the other hand, was as easy as shelling peas… Robin forced the thought away from him- Marian would be hidden somewhere, perhaps a little scared but unscathed, and they would find her.

"You want us to kidnap a guard and tie him to a tree then?" Allan joked.

"Yes! If we must! One of Guy's guards…We do it tonight… no, it will be better during the early morning hours, just before dawn…"

There was a stunned silence in the camp as everyone were trying to make some sort of sense out of this- struggling to form an opinion about this way of handling things.

"We can't do that Robin" Will finally said "It's insane. We will destroy the poor man's life- Sir Guy will make sure he pays if he talks to us…"

"Then we need to be clever and make sure Sir Guy doesn't find out. Right now it is our best chance to…"

"I can help"

The outlaws all spun around in surprise towards the clear loud voice that tore through the camp- it was slightly hushed and dark but without doubt feminine- and their faces became simultaneously painted in different shades of disbelief.

"Vix!" Allan burst out "What in the name of God and Allah, and a whole bunch of less virtuous deities mind you, are you doing here?!"

"As I said" she smiled "I have come to help. You really don't listen to the simplest of things Allan-a-Dale"

"I'm not being funny but your help is certainly not a simple thing… I would be less surprised to see the trees pull up their roots and walk away"

"I'm sure they would if I asked them to" Vix said and gave him a beaming smile. Then she walked over to Will and pressed her body against him in a tight hug "I'm sure that you are glad to see me at least honey-bunny"

"I'm… I… hum…mm" Will answered with an embarrassed look at his friends, noticing that Djaq raised her eyebrows in a very sarcastic way, and he felt himself blush for more than one reason. He shied away from Djaq's dark eyes and turned all his attention to the less hostile woman before him. "So you want to help us to find Marian then?" he asked the wonderfully warm and soft female body, witch curved under his hands in a way that no piece of wood ever could- no matter how perfectly crafted it was.

"Marian?!" Vix bust out with in a surprised little yell, as he'd just served her cabbage when she expected venison. She pulled away from him a bit "No, we must save Katie!" she called out "That is why I have come"

Robin gave out a short sarcastic laughter "You expect us to take this help you offer us without questions, and you expect us to save Katie with the same attitude. Why" He said and went up to the visitor to get a good look at her features when she spoke. He wasn't blind to her charms and beauty, but he found her pretty in the same way as a silver sword covered in crimson blood was pretty when it reflected the radiating sun.

"Because Katie is my sister, she must live, and you must help" Vix exclaimed with a natural authority in her voice. Had this woman been born a queen then the history books would talk of nothing else, Robin thought.

"Her" Little John said "We do not like"

Vix furred her brows in a rather playful way and leaned towards Will "Does he always talk like that?" she smirked, then her body tensed and she breathed out in an exasperated sigh. Her mood swings were so fast that she gave the impression of being a chaotic mosaic rather than an actual person "You do not need to like 'her'! I offer you my help because we share a common interest!"

Her words caused Allan to give out a sarcastic, snorting laughter. He stood by Djaq in a way that made them seem almost bound together by invisible threads- protecting each other by building a fortress of hostility round the pair. They seemed close like sister and brother, guarding the other's interests as well as their own. Robin wondered what it was that he had missed, why they seemed so close, what they shared now that they hadn't shared before. He knew it had to do with Will and Vix somehow. Then he almost started laughing when he remembered Allan's words all those weeks ago- it felt like a hundreds years had passed, like things had been this way forever- when Vix and Katie came to town and he simply referred to them as 'trouble'. What a bittersweet fate it would be if they saved Marian, just to see his friends shatter like the wind and the dream that was Robin Hood die.

"You come because you think that we share _your _interest" Allan said "You don't care about us"

"No, you are right. How very clever you are Allan-a-Dale" Vix mocked him "Listen I will prove myself to you. I will answer any questions you have and then I will help you with this Marian. If that is not good enough to you then I will just leave. A Butcher sister does not stay where she is not welcome. There are enough places that will take us in with open arms"

Allan gave her a hostile glare. "Yeah- all places where you haven't been already"

"Give her a chance" Will interposed "We need her. We got nothing"

"Yes" Robin sighed, giving in to the inevitable facts. "We do need her. Tell us what you do here Vix"

"I need to help my sister!"

"No tell us what you do in Nottingham"

"Oh that" she said "Well you won't like it, but I will tell you. I was employed by Prince John to make sure he got his money. He's been rather displeased with Vaysey lately, so he sent me here to take care of things"

"What, you are here as an enemy to Vaysey!?" Djaq laughed "That is too good to be true!"

"Well if killing Pippin Vaysey is the way to get the money to Johnny-boy then I will. But to be honest- and you people are so known for your precious honesty- the prince was more concerned with disloyal nobles and organised crime… that will be you boys. Scruffy outlaws feasting off the crown's resources… my, oh my…" Vix smiled.

"You tell us this and expect us to trust you? Vixy honey, I dare say you have lost your touch... I'm not being funny but..."

".. No, you are not being funny, Allan-a-Dale!" Vix sneered "Never have been, never will be. I never understood why Katie laughed at you…What do you want from me?! Is there no honour among thieves, hm? I just want my sister to live!"

Vix put a palm on her forehead and shut her eyes to calm down, then lifted her head and stroked the hand back over the flaming red curls with a sigh.

"I will tell you something" she said "About mine and Katie's past. It might help you to understand why I disgrace myself by coming here. It happened when I was still Vera and… well Katie has always been Katie. Even back then she was a mystery. We were only girls, I could not tell you our age because such things were not recorded in our house. Our father was a butcher, but not the nice hard-working kind. Money was scarce and he was always drunk. We didn't have a mother, although there sometimes lived strange women in the house. 'Stray cats' we called them, Katie and me. I guess our father was a handsome man and to be honest we preferred it when he had company- he was less cruel then, to us, to me… It was always I who got into trouble and he… he did things with me that no man would do to his wife, things that I have yet to experience since in all the men I have met, horrible things, ghastly cruel things that make Sir Guy seem like a little lamb, believe it or not. I was a child, his daughter… And I was Vera back then, I didn't fight him- I simply endured as every good Christian is taught to endure hardships. Then came one day, one like any other I guess, except that there were no stray cats in the house so when father came back we both knew what would happen. I cried so much that day, I can't remember why, but Katie sat with me in silence and we heard him come into the house. The door closed and he called out for us to come, then there were unsteady, heavy steps in the staircase... It was then that Katie snapped, well that is the best thing I can come to think of calling it now anyway. She rose from the bed and walked to the top of the stairs as calm as ever, waiting for him to reach the top. Then she simply threw out her hands at him and he fell backwards down the stair, his big body crashing against the steps making an awful lot of noise… The prostitutes that lived next door screamed and banged in the walls for us to shut up or they would make sure we got evicted, but they always threatened with that. Then there was this horrible cracking sound as he reached the bottom floor, as when a nose is broken in a bar fight, except it was louder and darker. So I went down to him and his head…Well it was in this really odd angle… I knew he was dead, obviously, I think I somehow knew that he would die as soon as I saw him fall, and he had that surprised look In his face…" Vix stopped the story to give out a rather girlish little laughter before she continued "He looked so funny… You really had to be there. Anyway, it was then that I looked up to Katie where she stood at the top of the stairs, and she was so beautiful and calm and horrible- as a wonderful Amazon- and I just thought that I wanted to be just like that. Then we left home together, making our way in the world by selling what we got and stealing what we wanted, and we have never parted since. It is a simple as that, ladies and gents. Without Katie there would be no Vix"

She said the last sentence with a charming smile, just a little bit heartbroken and a perfect tear made its way down her cheek. Will took her in his arms and held her rather protectively to his chest.

"Skip the act Vix" Allan scoffed. He had heard enough of Vix's stories to feel rather cold faced with another one, though there was something about the way she told this one that made him think it might be a little more than just a story. "It's a cute tale- might be true even. But no bloody tears, that is just being melodramatic. What do you say Rob? This is your call, mind you, it must be"

Robin looked over at the red headed woman who cried with such splendour in Will's arms. It _was_ a good act, it _was_ a nice tender story, the information she gave them about her being there as a spy for Prince John made sense, but the most important thing, the only thing that really mattered in the end, was the fact that they _needed_ her help.

"We need you" Robin said, turning to Vix "What choice do we have? Will you go into Nottingham Castle and find out where Marian is?"

Her tears wiped away as if they had never been there in the first place and she stepped away from Will. It was rather odd how she could simply turn on and off different moods, as they were merely settings in the play she was currently engaged in. Now Will was a prop that she didn't need anymore and she left him looking puzzled over the sudden coldness- she simply ignored him.

"I will do that" she said "I will ask the guards and Guy- they do speak to me. I will have an answer by midnight. Then when your lady is safe we will help my sister. Is that a deal?"

The outlaws' leader nodded and reached out his hand to her. "That is a deal indeed" he said and smiled.

Little did Robin know that they were engaged in a race against the clock, and midnight really wasn't soon enough…

---

The two novices that watched Marian until midnight were good boys. One of them had undertaken a vow of silence and thus it was a friendly serenity in the room that felt warm and comfortable to the sleeping noblewoman. She still wasn't awake but her sleep felt more natural, her breathing deep and steady, and when they woke her to give her some water she was drowsy but not completely absent. She smiled at them and fell back into the wonderful slumber where her thin weak body didn't ache and the world felt less heavy on her shoulders. She didn't quite understand where she was, or why, if this was a dream or if the dream was all the horrors she had lived through, and she was simply waking up at last. She missed something, longed for something during the moments when she stirred, and had a vague feeling of loss, but couldn't quite place it. She guessed it had to do with Robin- it was always Robin. This moment in time might be any time between the day that he left her and… well. What was real? It didn't matter… She felt safe for now, and during the floating moments of half-wake there were nothing in her surroundings that alarmed her.

The hours went by, slow and somewhat cruel in the destiny they carried for Marian, then finally midnight came and the friars changed shift. Neither of the novices had any liking for Brother Alistair. He'd tried to befriend them when they first came to the monastery, but he was slow and sleazy and just a little bit whining, apart from displaying a complete lack for any pious values that both the novices embraced heartily. They had quickly decided that life in the monastery was much like life out in the real world; there were those that you trusted, and those that you avoided. Brother Alistair was one that you avoided, and they scurried away as soon as he entered the room, leaving the unpleasant brother alone with a slumbering Marian.

Alistair looked at the room that hosted the noblewoman. It was a cell much like any other cell in the monastery, only slightly warmer, and someone had bothered to make it look cosy for some obscure reason that Alistair couldn't understand. Apart from the bed where Marian laid the only furniture were a wooden chair and a small table with water and some food that had been left untouched. Alistair sat down, rocking the chair that creaked alarmingly by his nervous movements, and gave out a sigh.

"Well" he said, unsure if it was right to talk to the woman you were about to murder "I'm… well I'm Alistair. I just want to say that… uh, well, I'm sorry about all this, really… It's not actually my fault- I don't mind you …. But I gamble you see, a now I find myself in this peril. It's was quite unexpected…"

Marian snored softly in response and moved her arm up to her cheek, tilting down her head slightly so that the face got half-buried in the pillow. He felt amazed for a while over her beauty; her features were softer in sleep, relaxed and innocent, and she had a soft pink glow on her cheeks that seemed inappropriately healthy. Her movement laid her throat stretched and bare, vulnerable with nothing but a lock of brown hair to protect it from the sharp dagger in Alistair's hand. The friar gave out a self-pitying moan.

"You are very pretty" he said "Ehm… I give you forgiveness for all your sins obviously. Amen… And… I wish I didn't have to do this… But Sir Guy said... you see… Well… You will surely go to heaven anyway"

He looked down at the dagger- Sir Guy had given it to him for the occasion so it was no ordinary weapon. It measured nearly a foot in length and curved slightly, the blade forming a beautiful razor-sharp arc. The deadly metal reflected the light from the candle and the shadow it made upon the grey walls was accompanied by flashes that flickered like fireflies. He realised that he was breathing even louder than usual through his open mouth but couldn't stop it. With a trembling voice he mumbled an Ave Maria, and then he focused his good eye on the naked skin that shined with a soft white glow in the moonlight, before regretfully lowering the blade. It came as a shock to suddenly find her eyes clear, awake and wide open.

Not even in sleep are we completely unaware of the world around us, and when something changes in the atmosphere it pushes through. Perhaps it was the loud panting breaths that warned Marian and made her stir, but whatever the reason she suddenly found herself staring into the hideous face of a friar who was thrusting a dagger right at her. She gave out a loud yell and twitched away from her pillow, sitting up in the bed and pressing her back against the wall. The dagger hit the pillow with a low puffing sound that seemed so much like an anticlimax it was almost ridiculous, and when Alistair pulled the dagger up the pillow followed. He shook it violently until the bolster fell to down- making white feathers dance playfully around the noblewoman and her assassin that looked at each other with different kinds of awe. Marian was still feeling drowsy and confused, tried to make out what was real and what wasn't, why she was here, why this man tried to kill her. It made no sense!

"I'm…" she stammered "Why? I don't… What happened? The knife! Why!?"

"Err sorry my lady… It's just that I have to kill you" Alistair said, then looked down on the dagger and thrust it at her in a new pathetic attempt to get the job done, not aiming on anything in particular. Marian ducked away and tried to scramble to her feet- she felt so weak and trembling that it was a wonder that she could move at all. With rising panic she realised that even though this man was a useless assassin, she wouldn't stand a chance if she was to fight him now. Instead she made her way out into the hall, running over the freezing stone floor with her bare feet. It was so cold that it hurt, and even though she was dressed in a wool robe with linen undergarments the almost frosty air pierced through. She thought about screaming but realised that she really didn't know if she was amongst friends or foes in this place. It seemed to be the Knittle Monastery, but was Abbot Thomas in charge or had Sir Guy or Vaysey perhaps taken over? She could hear Alistair's panting breaths behind her and realised that he was close- so close- and when she made a sharp turn into a new corridor his dagger scratched the wool in her dress. She tried to think, but everything was still clouded by a thick fog, and she was really only able to run like this because she was so filled with adrenaline that she would chew her own leg off in order to save herself. She tumbled against the wall as she ran, used it as support to the extent that her escape felt more like self-abuse- her body being plunged against the hard stone- and she moaned silently from the pain. She felt dizzy and dazed, then she suddenly she found herself outside two large doors and thrust her body at them. They swung open and she fell into a chapel that was lighted by dozens of wax candles witch cast uneasy dancing shadows at the walls.

The fall made her loose her breath and Marian gasped for air as she crawled up to the altar. She turned around and saw Alistair behind her- he seemed confused, as if he hadn't expected to actually be able to win this hunt. She smiled sadly at the absurdness of the situation, to live through all this only to die from the hand of a half-blind fool. She was so completely exhausted where she now stood and rested her shaking body against a big wooden cross by the altar. It reached high up to the ceiling, and the sad, pained eyes of a crucified Jesus-figure looked down at her in endless melancholy. At her left stood a Madonna Dolorosa, a grieving Madonna, with a slightly tilted head and an air of gentle compassion, and on her other side some male saint that she was unable to place. There was worse company to end ones life in, Marian thought. Then something in her, something ancient and primal, something as old as humanity itself, possessed her make a final effort to save this the only life she had been given. She grabbed hold of a wax candle and threw it at Alistair- his cloak instantly catching fire.

It took Alistair a moment to realise that he was burning- then he gave out a loud shriek and began to run around the chapel while he twisted and turned to get the burning cloak off. He pulled down more candles, and Marian watched in awe as every piece of cloth in the chapel lighted up and was devoured by yellow flames- spreading a suffocating grey smoke. Alistair got the garment off and ran up to Marian with the dagger looking rather harmless in his hand- it had been forgotten by this unlikely assassin thus faced with more pressing problems.

"What do we do what do we do?! What did you do that for? I … oh no the exit is blocked what do we do?!" the friar yelled. He was panicking, the squinting eye moved uneasy as during dream-sleep and he talked fast between wheezing breaths. The exit was indeed blocked- the door that had been their way into the chapel was now behind huge licking flames, toxic smoke and a wall of blazing heat.

"I do not know" Marian screamed "Is there no other way out?!"

"Well I don't know there is some sort of tower with supplies and stuff I think there is an entrance behind us but the only way is up and we need to get out…"

The smoke ripped through Marian's lunges, made her cough and feel sick and dizzy, and the heat- oh the heat!- it hurt far more than the coldness had done before. Her eyes were smarting and watering, making her nearly blind, nearly breathless, nearly sinking back into a deep sleep that she wouldn't wake from.

"We will die if we stay here…" she said and made her way to the door behind the altar. It was odd how the dynamics between them had shifted- he no longer hunted her but rather followed her initiatives blindly. She had a natural authority about her- an air of knowing what to do- and Alistair was the kind of person who gladly yielded faced with a more powerful personality. Hence the noblewoman and her assassin closed the door shut behind them, then crawled up the stairs. The stones were warm from the heat, although not enough to burn, and as they ascended the tower the steps became colder even though the smoke still clouded the air and made breathing heavy and painful. Finally they reached to a room filled with old junk, a barrel of water and some bread and wine.

Marian struggled for air and looked at the room- it had a window that was covered by solid wood shutters- and she realised that their only chance for survival was this small, almost pitch black cell. It seemed absurd that they had to find some sort of light-source when the monastery was on fire, but finally they managed to light some candles and they shut the door behind them.

"How high up are we Alistair?" Marian wheezed.

"Uh… uhmmmmmm… rather high up… yeah"

"Are we at the top of the monastery?"

"Erhm… yup pretty much…"

"Right… Well then…" she looked around and slowly an idea woke somewhere in the back of her head. "Alistair… We need cloth… lots of it… And give me the knife…"

"…huh…? No, I can't do that…"

"Give me the knife!" she yelled "If you want to live then you better listen to me and do as I tell you!"

He was completely taken aback by her reaction and reached out the knife to her before his mind caught up with his emotions.

"Thank you" she said "Now listen… We need cloth so help me collect all you can find in here… Then we need the water in that barrel… We might as wells start with getting ourselves soaked actually… And here is what we are going to do…"


	12. Inferno

Ch 12: Inferno

Marian felt alive- So alive! She was about to die a horrible death in the suffocating smoke of a roaring fire, but that was a minor detail. _She_ was in charge, _she_ took control- _she_ held the knife and ordered her own assassin around as if he was her humble servant. Alistair stood by the barrel of water holding a soaking rag of rust-red wool cloth that had the same sloppy, shaggy appearance as the friar himself.

"Now what?" he whined. Typical. Even facing his very near death this man managed to complain about having to work.

"You put that piece between the bottom of the door and the floor- we have to stop the smoke from leaking into the room. Hurry!"

The air was already polluted- thick and grey by toxic fumes that made breathing painful and caused Marian's irritated eyes to tear so much that the world was blurry before her. She blinked continuously but it made very little difference, and when she coughed- violent, painful spasms that tore through her body- the air that she inhaled was as bad as the air that her body tried to get rid of. She was sitting like a queen on a motley throne of rags and cloth that they had found around the room, and now she pointed the giant dagger at the door, just in case Alistair had forgotten where it was.

"Are you any good at making knots Alistair?" Marian asked between wheezing breaths.

"Um… " Alistair stopped and tried to focus his one healthy eye on her. The poor sod must be very nearly blind in here. "Knots?"

"Yes knots! Can you tie one piece of cloth to another so tight they won't break?"

"What will happen if they break then?" Alistair said. He was feeling a bit nervous- it seemed like she was about to give him an important job and he always messed those up.

"Then we die"

"Oh…Not sure I'm all that good with knots after all…"

"We will die if you don't do it as well mind you"

Reluctantly Alistair agreed. His mind was starting to catch up with the situation and it wasn't looking good for him, but what choice did he have? This woman held the knife in her hand and that meant that he had lost his one advantage over her.

"Listen…" Marian said "I will cut these rags into thinner strips and put them in the barrel of water. Then I want you to tie them together, forming a rope, can you do that?"

"A rope…" Alistair suddenly gasped at her, looking up at the window that remained shut. He'd wanted to open it but she had stopped him, claiming that the fire would feed of the new air and grow bigger. It didn't make any sense to him "You don't expect us to _climb _down do you?"

"It is the only way out"

"But… We are so high up! If we fall…"

"…we die"

"Ah" Alistair was beginning to see a theme here- everything appeared to end with them dying in one way or the other "Um… Can't we just wait for someone to save us… or something?"

"No" Marian said and started to rip a dirty linen rag into two strips. The friar went over to the barrel and then he tied the two rags together under Marian's piecing glare. To her surprise it was looking rather good- what little she could see at least

They sat in silence and worked, uncomfortable in each others company, and got preoccupied with the kind of thoughts that go through a person's mind while faced with death. Marian's entire life was flashing before her while Alistair simply wondered how he'd ended up here. He had but rarely made any choices of his own, simply followed the moments wherever they carried him. The path of least resistance is always a temptation, but it is a cruel one, since the longing for a simple life might reward one a life that is in all respects unbearable. This is what Alistair now realised, although not in those words, silently regretting his entire existence. His general laziness, or lack of choices, had left him nothing but lonely, miserable and waist-deep in trouble. He made moaning noises every once in a while when something ghastly came over him, but Marian had shut him out of her mind. She thought of the line of events that had led up to this and realised that it had all started here, in this monastery. As she looked over to the distorted face of Brother Alistair she wondered what his role in all this was. He was certainly no friend of hers, but he tried to kill her without passion, without real intent. He must have been hired by someone else, but he was such an unlikely assassin. Who would be foolish enough to hire him? How did his pitiful life become so tightly entwined with hers?! Then suddenly a thought hit her and she felt a tug in her stomach.

"Alistair, how did Sir Guy know that the Night Watchman had been here?" she inquired.

The brother answered her question almost recklessly, as if he didn't consider his own words. "Oh… um I told him" he said and pulled the two rags in his hands to test the knot.

"_You_ told him! Why?!"

Alistair twitched by the sharpness in her words and looked up from the job that occupied all of his resources. For some reason she was angry with him.

"Well he paid money for it" he shifted nervously under her gaze; the answer obviously didn't please her. He could see that, even though Marian was nothing more than a blurry shape, she had a certain posture that gave it away. "And I needed that… money I mean. I needed money and he had it"

"You really sell quite cheep don't you?" Marian scoffed. All this had started with this stupid friar, his complete lack of character and morals had caused them all to fall down into this dire vortex. He hadn't even done it with malice, but she almost died because of him, someone would hang because of him, she had been punished, branded and disgraced because of him and because of him, she had been forced to break Robin's heart. Now, in spite of all this pain, she needed him and she had to help him- help Him!- out of this burning house. She had to save a life that she would have preferred to quench. Marian, kind sweet Marian who didn't kill, wouldn't mind this man's blood on her hands at all. She drew a sharp breath to calm down but regretted when her chest filled up with the warm stinging fumes and she coughed so hard it felt as if her lungs were being ripped to shreds. A taste of iron filled her mouth and all thoughts of Alistair's crimes gave away to fear- the room was getting hotter by the minute and the smoke made her feel queasy and tired. She was not prepared to die here, she wanted to be with Robin, to tell him… to just talk to him, and to let him hold her and caress her and laugh at her jokes and cry at her pain. He seemed so broken and sad in all this, so very soft and vulnerable when she was involved, and she wished she could smile make it better, to put his head in her lap and stoke away his troubles with a single touch. Erase, erase- if only there was a way to get innocence back- if angst was quenched and quickly as a candle on the bedside table. But time was as hard and unchangeable as marble- she had control of nothing but the future and now that was escaping her as well.

"We need to hurry" she panted. The heat in the room was becoming unbearable "Not much time"

"Um… sort of running out of rags here…" Alistair said, and Marian realised that there was no more cloth.

"It won't be enough will it?" she said and the friar shrugged his shoulders. Whatever they did this would never take them all the way down. "Take off your robe" she continued and started to pull her own dress over her head, sitting only in linen undergarments that were wet with sweat from the heat "Hurry! We need more cloth!"

They used their own clothes to make the last bit of the rope, then pulled every knot between them to test that it held before they secured it- their only hope. As lifelines go it had its flaws, but they were lucky to have a lifeline at all they way their fates twisted around them. Alistair climbed up to the window and opened the shutters, then looked down. A restless orange glow came from the windows of the monastery and the wind was crisp and cold on his face. Then he squinted at the lawn under the window and saw two men pointing at him- they looked like bumblebees dressed in yellow and black and had helmets that reflected the orange rays. He smiled to himself; if he could only get down first then he could tell the guards and get his job done without lifting a finger. Lady Marian would be dead- regrettably- and he would live, a friar still but without a monastery to suffocate him. For a moment this newfound optimism was clouded by guilt as he saw the noblewoman stretching a bundle of cloth at him, but he really couldn't afford to be ethical when his own life was at stake.

"I'll go first" he said "I can catch you perhaps, if you fall"

She nodded wearily and gave him a crooked smile. As Alistair took his first step out of the window he saw Marian look around for a moment before deciding to discard the dagger in order to get both hands free, and he felt is heart leap with joy when the gruesome weapon hit the floor.

---

Robin paced around the camp much in the same way as an anxious father awaits his first child to be born into the world- feeling nervous and worried, yet filled with expectations and hope. He couldn't believe that Marian was dead- surely this world could not be that cruel- not now when there was hope in the horizon like the first light of dawn. Robin Hood wasn't one to give up, if there was a way then he would find it, and thus he now awaited Vix's return with more thrill than awe.

"Won't you just stop pacing, you make me dizzy mate" Allan complained from his position by a large oak and gave Robin an irritated frown.

"She should be here soon! It's close to midnight" Robin said and leaped up on a log in order to get a better view. It made very little difference in the blue moonlight that filtered down through the foliage, yet his agile body stood tense and alert and gazed into the darkness.

There was some further gentle bickering among the friends and the moon went into such a position that they knew it must be midnight, before a figure emanated trough the black of the Sherwood night.

"I am back" Vix Butcher said and kneeled down amongst the outlaws. Her face was a white oval with sharp shadows that made it look eerie and ghost-like- a messenger of doom or bliss. She came carrying grief or joy in her indifferent heart, the power to break the world or heal it with her callous hands.

"Well?" Robin spurred her on.

"Well… It wasn't easy… first I sought Garth in the guards' quarters…"

"I don't need a story Vix! I need a result!"

She snorted at the anxious outlaw and raised a perfectly curved eyebrow "Very well" she said "She is in the Knittle Monastery. Guy left her there, alive but rather fatigued apparently"

"Knittle!" Much exclaimed "Master that is good news! She is amongst friends"

"Maybe…"

"What do you mean maybe? Surely the friars won't hurt her?"

"But why doesn't her father know why she is there?! There is something wrong, there is…"

Robin suddenly stopped in the middle of the sentence and twitched slightly as if something took him off guard. His face was frowned and serious, a pined look that seemed anxious and worried. In the very same moment that Marian opened her eyes to a shining dagger Robin's heart froze with fear- screaming at him that something was about to go terrible wrong in the world. He knew in that instant that Marian was in trouble- that her life was hanging on a very thin thread and she was calling out to him. The sensation was so strong and vivid it almost made him cry.

"What is it mate?" Allan said "You look like a ghost just walked over your grave"

"I think it just did" Robin said "Come, we have to leave, now!"

"Knittle is far away master, can't this wait? We are all rather tired I dare say"

"No, Much, this cannot wait!" Robin burst out "We need to go now!" Then he bit his lip and forced himself to calm down "On the other hand most of the horses are tired. It will be faster if we just take Sparkle and Edgar… Much can come with me and the rest of you return to the camp"

"Good plan" Allan smiled, and then the gang of scruffy outlaws shattered into the pitch black Sherwood Forest.

---

They saw the light before they reached the monastery. There was an orange glow that illuminated the dark sky in the horizon, over the treetops' ragged silhouettes. Then the wind carried whiffs of smoke, witch became stronger as they closed in on Knittle and got mixed up with the reek of things burning. They spurred the horses on, rode faster through the forest and took shortcuts that would have cost less skilled men their lives for sure, jumping over roots and ducking under branches. They started to feel the heat from the fire and hear the roaring flames before they burst out from the forest, and there were voices that sounded pathetic and feeble as they yelled to each other over the general chaos.

Then the forest ended and the sight made Robin and Much halt the exhausted horses and stare in awe at the scene that was revealed. What had once been a majestic monastery that stood so solid and graceful surrounded by gardens was now a blazing inferno. The giant orange flames licked the sky like ferocious hands trying to tear down the stars and fumes of tick, toxic smoke surrounded the outlaws.

"It's" Much exclaimed "Master… This is… I have never…"

"No" Robin agreed "Neither have I" Then he pushed through the paralyzing spell that a disaster lays upon its observers. "We need to find Marian" he said "Come!"

The friars were working in a long chain trying to get the fire under control with water and soil. The building was far beyond salvation but it would be worse if the flames gripped on to the trees of Sherwood Forest and became unstoppable. They were sweaty and covered in sooth with cloth covering their mouths to filter the toxic air, and Robin's screams were met by nothing but indifferent glances. He dismounted and started to approach them, grabbing hold of their robes and shaking them to get an answer. "Marian?!" he said "Where is Marian, have you seen Marian?!" and they shook their heads in response. He got more and more anxious, his voice coated with panic as he got increasingly disrespectful in his inquiries until he was interrogating them almost violently. Finally someone laid a hand on his shoulder and led him some distance from the heat and commotion, and he turned to look into the kind brown eyes of the aging abbot.

"Thomas!" he panted, as his nervous breathing had caused him to inhale more smoke than he should have "Marian, I must find her… where…"

"Calm down boy" Abbot Thomas said "Had I known… She was nowhere to be found when the fire started"

"What?!" Robin felt the panic rise in his chest "Why? How?!"

"I don't know. But fire is a vicious element my son- it is no coincidence that hell is described as an inferno" His voice was soft and comforting- the sound of a man who had delivered many unpleasant news in his lifetime- but the soothing tone had little effect on Robin.

"She is somewhere!" he said "I will find her! Much! Much we need to take a turn around the building…" He jumped up onto his horse witch was startled by the sudden movement and began to move before he was properly seated.

They rode through the smoky landscape with their eyes firmly on the surroundings that were lighted by the violent fire. Robin felt his heart leap at every bush or unfamiliar shape only to have it sink down in his chest as he closed up to the feature. His voice was hoarse from the smoke and his increasingly desperate screams, Marian's name became a panicking cry in the night. He had a feeling that she was alive and called out for him somewhere- that she was close yet too far away for him to reach her.

"Master!!!" Much suddenly called out "Look!"

Robin halted his horse and followed Much's pointing finger up to the monastery's southern wall. There was something hanging down from a window, a rather bulky rope that seemed to be tied together by smaller fragments, and there was a figure clinging to it. He knew it was her, he saw t in her way to move as she carefully made her way down, and when he turned his attention to the ground below her he realised that she wasn't alone. Three figures waited for her and Robin instantly knew that at least two of them were guards. Suddenly the picture seemed hostile, Marian wasn't moving away from danger but rather closing in on it.

"Marian!" he shouted, but his voice was swallowed by the roaring from the burning building and he spurred his horse into a gallop. "Much! Come!"

They rode as fast as they could, one eye on Marian's shape that trembling made its way towards the ground and the other on the guards that stood aiming their weapons at the base of the rope. Marian increased her speed as the distance to the ground became shorter and the potential fall less fatal, and there was a terrifying realisation in Robin's plagued mind that she would reach the guards before they did. He took out his bow and praised the Saracen handicraft as the comparatively short weapon rested in his hands ready to be fired in spite of the fact that he was riding a horse. His aim would be bad- not even Robin Hood could make an arrow steady while he was moving like this, and the darkness didn't help either- but it would be enough. First and foremost they had to be made aware of his presence. He let go of the reins and felt how his body balanced unsteady in the saddle, then put an arrow to the string and released it.

A perfectly balanced arrow with red and black feathers cut through the smoke, travelled steady with very little curving and didn't stop until a guard's fleshy thigh closed around the arrowhead. Robin watched with a victorious grin, then the horse made a jump over a low shrubbery and he felt himself loose balance and slide off the saddle. He hit the ground with a hard thud that pushed the air out of his lungs and made him draw wheezing breaths from the thick smoke.

"Much!" he panted as him manservant crouched down beside him "I'm fine… Marian… Marian…" His lungs hurt, oh how these flaming fumes ached to inhale! His arm hurt and his side hurt but his heart hurt more than anything and he would die- after all this he felt sure that he would die!- if he were to fail in saving Marian.

Much nodded and drew his short sword, then ran towards the guards only to stop halfway as Marian was clinging to the rope without moving. The commotion had caught her attention and she watched the scene tensely, the rope twisted around her ankle to secure her unsteady position. Robin rose with some effort and followed his manservant. They were partly hidden by the shadows where they stood and the two guards- the third figure was nowhere to be seen- peered into the darkness. The one that had been hit by the arrow kneeled down and held one hand on his thigh, and Robin aimed another arrow at them and moved closer.

"This is how it is!" he shouted "You two can choose to leave now, and I will spare your lives. On the other hand you can choose to stay and fight, and then you will not be so lucky"

The guards exchanged a look, then looked over to the figure that emerged from the fog and darkness with a very sharp arrow aimed at them. It was no difficult decision- after all, this must be considered more than a day's work for two hired soldiers- and they scurried away as fast as they could. Robin gave his bow to Much and ran over to the rope that was cleverly made from wet rags that had been tied together. His heard pounded so hard it made him feel dizzy and his breathing sharp and shallow as he saw Marian moving down towards him. She had very little clothes on and when she slipped into his arms he could sense the naked skin on her thighs and arms. It did very little to calm his racing heart, his deep worry being mixed with vague traces of lust, and then he realised how cold and shivering she was. She had her arm limp around his neck and rested her head heavy on his shoulder, the lips and eyes partly open as something almost serene came over her features. Robin kneeled down and pulled her close into a tight embrace, his heart beating almost violently by worry and relief and lust and fear, and overwhelming love for this woman in his arms.

"Marian" he said, his voice thick and trembling from restrained tears and laughter "Marian, oh god if you knew how much I have missed you… My love, my love I thought…"

"… Hush" she interrupted him. Then she tilted her head up to meet his eyes with a tired smile lingering on the dry lips "I'm so happy you are here Robin" she mumbled and tucked her head in under his chin "So happy…"

He chewed his lip, tried not to cry- tried not to laugh. There had been times when he feared he would never see her again, never again feel the warm breath that now tickled his skin in feather-light puffs, never sense how she moved beside him and her wonderful body slide so perfectly into his embrace. Now she was here, her head was pressed to his bosom and he could feel her heart beat and her chest heave- he could feel her live! He pulled himself together, forced his mind not to linger in the moment but rise to see the situation around them- the burning monastery, her wet clothes becoming cold in the icing night. He took his hooded shirt off and pulled it over her head, then called out to Much to bring him any clothes that he could spare, and they made her a cocoon from cloaks and shirts until she was tucked in like an infant in binding. Robin lifted her up and held her close to his body to warm her, then tilted his head to give her a warm reassuring kiss on the lips. Marian felt her heart leap at the sensation, a sweet tender tingle as his lips found hers, and she responded even though her drowsy mind was drifting. For the first time since before this gruesome story plunged them all into different kinds of hell Marian felt relaxed and safe, comfortable in the arms of the man that she loved and trusted. There was a future again, something to live for, a wish to live and breathe and never leave this place where she felt so at home. She wanted to say it to him but she was so feeble and tired and words drained too much energy from her. Thus she put all her feeling into that soft brief kiss- then she held him tightly round the neck as he carried her away from the flaming inferno, out of the smoke and hazard, up onto his horse and into Sherwood. They didn't speak, but she could feel his heart beat fiercely in his chest, his body tremble and now and then he pulled her even closer into his embrace as if he was amazed to find her there and needed to know that it was real.

---

Much stayed behind by the monastery to help fight the fire and the night was slowly softening to the lights of the coming day when Robin and Marian finally reached Knighton Hall. He still held her tight and she stirred from her slumber when the horse halted and he slid down from the saddle with her weary body in a firm grip. It scared him a bit to realise how light she was, how thin and feeble she seemed in his arms; like one of Vaysey's birds. But her eyes were clear and sharp when they flickered open and she arched up to give him a light kiss. This is how Sir Edward found them, two dirty dishevelled youngsters completely lost in each other's presence. Robin stood quite unsteady with Marian in his arms- a big bruise had formed on his side from the fall earlier and he was dressed far to lightly in only his linen undershirt- exhausted from the day that had drained every resource from the scruffy outlaw. Marian was a pile of rags in his arms, a pale face that gazed up to her lover with complete and unbounded trust. Edward hesitated before he approached them, touched by the tenderness in the scene and the shear vulnerability that the couple displayed, but then his need to see his daughter took over.

"Marian!" he said and smiled at the sudden shyness in Robin's demeanour. "Robin, we take her to her room. Come in and warm yourself by the fireplace, no one sleeps in the forest tonight"

Robin nodded and they made their way into the manor house. It took him by surprise that Edward treated him not like an intruder, or even guest, but rather as if he was Marian's most natural companion through this and Edward merely went along for the ride. He gave them the hospitality of Knighton Hall- they got a bath and new clothes as the old ones were washed by the maid and hung up to dry by the fireplace- and he accepted the fact that Robin refused to leave Marian's side. Thus they fell asleep in her bed, still clinging to each other as castaways, and Edward thought that this world was so much in limbo now that it made little difference what social rules they broke. They trespassed onto grounds that shouldn't be treaded upon until after marriage, yet Edward would have let them go even further. In a world where happiness was this scarce it must be given space to bloom and prosper, he thought. As he left the room, the couple slept serenely by each other's side- innocent as children once again.

It was close to noon when Marian stirred from her heavy sleep and felt confused for a short moment before it all came back to her. Robin's beardy chin rested on her forehead and she could feel his deep breaths as a light draught that filtered through her hair- they still seemed somewhat laboured, as were her own, from the suffocating smoke. She shifted slightly and crawled up to face him, then entangled her fingers in his hair and woke him up with a soft kiss. She loved this- loved how he responded to her touch and pulled her closer, loved how he smiled and mumbled good morning into her mouth. Then other thoughts took over and she grew tense and almost guarded.

"What is it?" Robin frowned. He felt drowsy but her sudden mood change alarmed him.

"It's just… The monastery, it burned… The friar who… all this I cannot…"

"Cannot what?"

"I can't understand it" she exclaimed "Brother Alistair, what happened to him?"

"Alistair? I think the friars were fine, at least I heard nothing to contradict that"

"No! You don't understand… Alistair he tried to kill me, he was the one who gave the Nightwatchman away…"

"Try to kill you?!" Robin exclaimed suddenly wide awake.

"Yes… Well, he was a rather unlikely assassin, but that makes it all even stranger. I think Sir Guy…"

"Guy?! Marian, I swear…"

"No Robin, please don't… Just listen. Alistair gave away the Nightwatchman, sold information to Sir Guy I think. And somehow he got involved in all this, for some reason someone talked him into trying to murder me…"

Robin's face was severe and troubled as she spoke. The pieces were falling into place, the strange puzzle becoming increasingly clear to him. Sir Guy's guards had been waiting for Marian below the rope- Sir Guy was hunting for the Nightwatchman. He was the one to blame!

"… and I…" Marian continued as she remembered further events, almost forgotten in the general chaos "Sir Guy knew! He knew I was the Nightwatchman, he was trying… I thought I was doomed for sure, but then Alistair came and said that the cloth was up and the watchman was coming to Knittle. How can that be?! That can't be so Robin…"

Robin shook his head at her. "It wasn't the Nightwatchman- it was Katie Butcher but she was dressed as you. She is to be hanged in a week"

"What?! Robin…"

"Hush" He took her head in his hands and gently caressed the soft cheeks, grazing her lower lip with his thumb. "I will deal with this. She won't hang for your 'crimes'- no one will hang over this"

"So much trouble I have caused…" Marian whispered, avoiding his gaze "All this to save the monastery only to burn it to the ground. It was I who burned it Robin… My fault that Katie is imprisoned, I who threw the candle at Alistair… This is all because I had some vain idea about being a martyr, to let myself fall for the cause. So very brave and idealistic and ultimately stupid…"

"It was as you said Marian" he interposed, shaking his head at her as he sought her eyes in an attempt to reassure her "It was the best way"

"But what was it all for?! A romantic death?" she laughed a sarcastic little giggle that broke into dry sobs. Her feelings of guilt scared him- he had seen such emotions destroy people, plunge them into a darkness that they carried as a cross on crooked backs for the rest of their lives.

"When you venture into battle it can be lost even though the cause was good" he said "There are no assurances in war, no certain outcomes. You can only fight the battles with your heart and mind and pray for the best. A lost battle doesn't taint the cause that made you fight it Marian!"

Her face softened slightly by his words.

"But is this all in vain?" she asked "What will history make of us?"

"History will paint our love in golden rays of sun and crimson blood" he smiled "And nothing is in vain, as long as someone fights injustice then there is hope for this world. We need to fight for what we believe in"

"How very idealistic you are my love…" she smiled sadly.

Robin laughed softly at the realisation that she would live through this- he could see it in her determined eyes and steady voice.

"And so are you" he mumbled and pulled her tight into a warm embrace.

"But what do we do now? We can't let Katie die"

"We will plan a rescue. Her sister will help us…" Robin frowned slightly at this; he didn't quite trust Vix Butcher.

"There is money in the castle" Marian said as she remembered something "A large amount of silver waiting for safe transport to Prince John"

"Really? Surely you are not suggesting that we rob the sheriff?!"

"Oh surely not" Marian smiled "But I am suggesting that _you_ rob the sheriff"

Robin let out a cheerful chuckle. "Mhm…You have a plan?"

"Oh I have half a plan" she laughed.

"Marian Fitzwalter, you never cease to surprise me" Robin shook his head in pretended shock. "I thought _I_ was supposed to do the planning"

"Oh you are, I won't get involved in the planning of the general rescue mission…" Marian said and gave her lover a rather cheeky smile "But I think I might help in getting the money out from the castle. We will use a Trojan horse except that we will use it in reverse..."


	13. Mission Impossible

**I'm so sorry I have been lazy with updates… I have finished the story you see, so I got distracted. I don't really like it's slow and complicated to publish stuff here so I tend to put it off… I do love you people though, so plz keep on commenting, if you don't mind. :-**

**There will be 17 chapters all in all.**

**Dean – don't worry the plan will be revealed. The last chapter was the ultimate R/M chappie, if I remember it correctly. This one is a bit of a fun adventurous chapter instead, and the next chapter continues this one. I hope you enjoy it! **

**Guy and Marian has a scene in this chapter as well, if I have any brave Guy-fans left hehe…I know ppl have told me that my version of Sir Guy is very evil. He is cruel, I admit that, but people tend to react more strongly to it than I intended… **

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Ch 13: Mission Impossible

Much came back to the camp in Sherwood Forest looking like he'd rolled around in forge, his clothes and skin black and tattered and the blond hair ruffled with dark tangles. A crow could easily have taken him for a walking nest, and even though he'd washed the slightly flushed face in a creek on the way, there were ink-like streams of soot smeared all over his features. Vix Butcher was the first one to comment on his appearance from her position by Will's side.

"Much!" she exclaimed happily "Whatever have you been up to!? You look like a troll!"

Her laughter pierced through the silence in the camp, loud and almost vulgar, and Will blushed slightly by her reaction. He had a vague sensation of being responsible for her actions since he was the only one who stood up for her.

"Where is Robin, Much?" he said "Did you find Marian? What happened?"

"Well…" Much panted "To cut a long story short the Knittle Monastery is very… very much in ruins. It took all night to control the fire… Robin and Marian left before me- I had expected him to have returned by now to be honest" he turned to look around the camp, a worried frown forming under the layers of soot.

"Oh don't worry my love, he's a big boy and I'm sure Marian can take care of him" Vix smiled "Now… I have been asking for breakfast all morning but they all tell me to wait for you. And now when you have come it looks like you have in fact tried to roast yourself, but that is quite over the top I assure you. Some egg and bacon will do fine"

"Vix!" Will exclaimed.

"What?"

"That is just… That is rude. Look at him, you can't ask him to cook like that!"

"Oh but I can help… I might drop the eggs and burn the bacon though, and then he will shout at me to stay out of his kitchen" she smiled.

"You will drop the eggs and burn the bacon just to get away from the kitchen" Allan interposed "Oldest trick in the book, don't you think I have tried that already? He's patient like a bloody guard"

Much snorted at the argument "I won't boil a single egg until Robin comes back anyway" he said. He was feeling distressed and worried for his friend, and even more so for Marian. She had looked…. well, alive. But that fire had been so fierce, the smoke so thick and suffocating, the heat so unbearable… If Marian hadn't made it through the night then Robin would be… Robin wouldn't be Robin anymore. Somehow this guerrilla war they fought seemed to be intertwined with Marian's life, her condition was as vital as the condition of the country for their relative success. It could annoy Much from time to time that Robin was so easily distracted when they needed a strong solid leader, but Robin was always in his head occupied with whatever his heart told him and he could not be any other way. Impulsive, sometimes rash, a bit arrogant and way too emotional, but he also had a strong sense for justice, was clever and brave and idealistic. Robin needed Marian, and that meant that they all needed Marian. She kept him on track and gave his life the light and hope that made him a good leader. Much had forced himself to focus on the blazing inferno he stayed behind to fight but his thoughts never left the couple, and he had been anxious enough to have forgotten about his own state- dirty, bruised and utterly exhausted as he was.

"What is this I hear about not boiling a single egg!?"

The outlaws all turned to the voice and found an almost annoyingly healthy and cheerful Robin Hood looking down at them. He had obviously had a bath and some nice food, leaping of his horse with an agile vigour that appeared to have been cleansed from the weeks of heavy heartache. In this moment he was full of energy and enthusiasm, seemingly light-headed as a child with a beaming and somewhat sheepish smile on his face.

"Master" Much said at the sight of the sparkling outlaw leader "I gather Lady M is fine then?"

"She is. And I got something from her" Robin smiled and took a bag from the saddle. Even the horse seemed to be in better condition than the gang of outlaws, having spent the night in a cosy stable. "It's supplies, much needed by the look of things. And she told me to give this to you specifically Much" He threw a piece of smoked lamb at the manservant who softened slightly the sight of his favourite food.

"Oh bless her" he said.

"Bless her indeed" Robin agreed and got lost in some sort of seemingly very pleasant day dream "Because of her" he mumbled absently "We will rob the sheriff of all the bloody silver in the castle…" Then he forced himself out from never-never land and glanced over to the gang. They looked like outlaws do most of the time, scruffy, dirty and dishevelled with rather annoyed looks on their faces. "What is with the sour faces?!" he burst out "This is good! We will save Katie too obviously"

"You get what you want and suddenly the world is right again?" Vix Butcher said with a nasty grin in her perfect face. "Perhaps we are not so different you and I"

An uneasy silence descended over the camp and Robin felt a pang of guilt. He didn't care what she thought of him but he had a feeling that she just voiced what everyone was thinking. They were right of course- this almost ecstatic joy he felt was irrational and a bit disrespectful. The world was far from right, Katie was still imprisoned and the monastery had burned to the ground, Marian was still in danger and they were still outlawed in a forest that moved steadily towards colder times. But how could he help that he felt this way? All hope had been lost and it was a miracle that they suddenly had a solution, that Marian lived and was free and loved him.

"I'm sorry" he said "But I do have a plan… well… Half a plan"

"Another mission impossible?" Allan interposed and grabbed a piece of bread from the bag "I have missed those, mate"

Robin smiled. "Yes, another mission impossible for the lads and lasses of the forest. Will, I need you to come with me to Knighton by dusk, but first we have a hard day's work ahead of us" His face took on a tentative appearance, with a crooked smile that looked cunning and a bit mischievous "We need to plan the rescue" he finished, and then he sat down to watch the gang wolf down the feast that Marian had prepared for them with such loving gratitude.

---

It had been a nuisance to find fitting clothes. Marian looked down at her lavender blue dress and marvelled over how her body seemed to have shrunk- this dress had always clung to her as if it had been sewn into place, but now she slipped it already laced and ready over her head as a nightgown and the thin leather belt made the wool crease around her waistline. Robin had assured her that she looked fine, although a bit skinny, but no doubt still the most beautiful woman in the world- and she did believe that he meant it. The only problem was that he was blind as a bat when it came to her. She smiled at the thought of the scruffy outlaw and tucked in a silken lock of brown hair behind her ear; it was a subconscious act, an almost coquette gesture that carried a whiff from the old days, back when the thought of Robin had made her girly and nervous in spite of herself.

Marian was seated in a carriage heading towards Nottingham, a bumpy and rather unpleasant ride even in a dry autumn morning such as this. A light fog danced over the crisp meadows that remained white with frost, even though the sparkling crystals had started to give away to the warmth of the pale sun. She felt a chill run down her spine when she realised that she could have been in the dungeon still, awaiting another day in the pillory, and it was painfully clear to her that she might not have lasted another week. Now every turn on this road she travelled was so familiar, yet alien since she had believed that this was a life she would never return to. She sat dressed up once again on her way to a council of nobles' meeting- well, those meetings were nothing but a charade that had little to do with politics these days, but she had good reasons for attending today. Apart from the fact that this was a symbolic and rather triumphant return, a proof that she was not broken yet, it was also vital part of the plan. Her heart pounded as she closed in on Nottingham, it was fear but fear in itself is hardly a sign of weakness. Rather she was wise to be afraid, since she was in fact travelling on unknown territories. This city was a black hole before her, she didn't know what awaited her at her arrival, only that she would meet Sir Guy and the sheriff and they certainly wouldn't be pleased to see her this… alive and well. It was the _not knowing_ that was the hard part. She didn't know how they would react and she had no idea how much Sir Guy actually knew. Did he believe her to be dead or missing in the fire? He hadn't called on her father during the two days that had passed so perhaps his guards had filled in the gaps for him. Or Alistair… but Marian had a feeling that Alistair was on the run. He seemed to be the kind of person who rather ran than faced up to his own failures, and he had a great pro from the fact that he'd been involved in a fire. The way the flames devoured everything he might just let his own self burn with it, become a non-person.

She forced her thoughts to return to the mission at hand instead of trailing off into pointless brooding- it was far too easy to get distracted. Last night Will Scarlet had come to prepare the wagon and as she gently tapped the seat under her cushion three times she heard three knocks answering her from within the wooden structure. She hoped the poor boy wouldn't get all queasy from the bumpy ride and bit her lip every time it hit a bump- shouting at the driver to take it easy for the love of God.

The carriage went over the bridge where the Nottingham outcasts tried to make their winter bearable by building sheds off old planks and waste materials. It looked more like a small village in itself for every year and it broke Marian's heart to watch it. She scanned the area for well-known faces and smiled briefly as she saw a pair of very familiar eyes giving her a concerned gaze from under a frayed, green hood. She blew Robin a kiss, and then the carriage disappeared into Nottingham just in time for her to catch a glimpse of a rather sheepish smile on the young man's face.

The carriage stopped on the yard of Nottingham castle and she told the driver to park it in a sheltered place by the servant's quarters. She nodded quickly in recognition at Vix Butcher, who stood leaned against one of the massive stone walls of the castle, and took a deep breath before she moved in to face her fears.

---

Vix waited until Marian had moved into the castle and the driver disappeared to take a turn on the market before she moved up to the carriage. It was well sheltered by the shadows where it stood and she smiled at the clever choice of parking spot. In spite of their foolish ethics these outlaws were clever, and the cunning Lady Marian was a great asset to this odd cause. She couldn't quite understand what their motivation was, why people would sacrifice themselves like this when it all was in vain in the long run. Vix had seen enough of the royal court to know that politics were corrupt at its core, and she liked that- it enabled her to work for her own means, to get what she wanted by exploiting the greed and hunger of other men. She had been an excellent con artist, a brilliant concubine and the most terrifying rogue money could buy. Yes, the last couple of years had been wonderful, she had such flow, rose to the very top of the hierarchy as far as thieves were concerned, so high up her crimes weren't really crimes anymore. And it was glorious- glorious!- it didn't end but moved on and on, the sky was her limit and she felt sure not even that could have stopped her. Until now, that is. Why would Katie do this!? How she loved that girl, that foolish odd sister of hers, the only one in the world that she cared for. Only Katie could make her do something as idiotic as this. It didn't do anything at all for _her_ cause to rob the sheriff, she didn't have morals and now she broke the law to help men that behaved as if an ethical life made you a better human. What did she care about being good?! All she wanted was to be comfortable- no better off- she wanted to have everything that her birth right had deprived her of. If she succeeded in helping Prince John to get his money then she would be richly rewarded- she would finally have a title. She would be Countess Veronica (well, she couldn't very well be called Countess Vera or Countie Vix could she?) and bow down to no one.

Katie was a mystery, and not one that she was particularly pleased with at the moment. Now she would have to find some way to turn this to her advantage and that would no doubt mean being cruel and cunning. Oh how she hated it when her best laid plans failed!

She sighed and went up to the carriage knocking five times on the seat. It was the code they had decided on and a hatch opened carefully under the cushion, revealing Will Scarlet's face looking rather ashen and queasy.

"It's safe" she said "Come out of there my love, you look like you have spent your life in a crypt"

"I'm sure a crypt wouldn't move around like this" Will moaned "I wish I had skipped breakfast…uh"

"Well it's all over now anyway. I keep watch and you do whatever it is you do"

Will sneaked out and moved down to the front wheel with some tools in his hands, and then the skilled carpenter started to get the plan into motion.

---

Sir Guy's face grew pale with shock when Marian walked into the great hall. Their eyes locked into each other and Marian nodded gracefully at him. The moment was so tense it sparkled, but the electricity was not the kind of intoxicating tingle that she shared with Robin- rather an almost painful sensation. It was the kind of tension in witch a hunter meets his prey- yet Marian wasn't quite sure if she was the hunter or the game.

"Lady Marian!" Gisbourne exclaimed.

"Sir Guy" she responded with a polite smile.

"I'm… How are you?"

Marian studied his features- he seemed quite taken aback by her presence, annoyed yet somehow relieved at the same time. 'Do you not know your own feelings, Sir Guy?' Marian thought suddenly feeling more intrigued than scared.

"I am quite well, as you can see. I have lost some weight but that is to be expected when one is deprived of nutrition"

"Yes…" Sir Guy made an effort to collect his features into a cold smirk "I am glad that the matter has been resolved. The Nottingham court is not quite the same without you"

"No you are very lucky to have me, I am sure" Marian smiled "Wouldn't it have been horrid had I perished in that fire? And yet no one has come to inquire about my health until now"

She challenged him, tried to provoke some sort of reaction out of the dark lord. He must know that she was aware of his attempt to assassinate her- at least her steady, sarcastic gaze gave it away for sure. She had not forgotten his cruelty when he found out about her being the Nightwatchman, and she wanted him to feel guilt- regret it enough to feel in debt to her. Still, she had told him that her heart belonged to Robin Hood, and he wasn't likely to forget that.

"I hear you have finally found the Nightwatchman" she continued "I am very glad that that matter has been resolved as well"

"Yes" Sir Guy said and avoided her eyes. "She is to be hanged. Katie Butcher is nothing but a rogue; do not make any mistake about that. She did not try to save you from the pillory when you spent time there for her- that would have been the honourable thing to do"

"And are you an honourable man Sir Guy?"

"Yes!" he sneered.

"That is what I have always thought. We are honourable people you and I. And the honourable thing to do when you have hurt someone and have been hurt in return must surely be to leave it behind. You may kiss my hand" she said and reached a bony hand at Sir Guy who watched her polite, slightly victorious smile with a rather puzzled expression. "Then we will say no more of this"

"You want me to forgive you?" he snorted.

"I want you to be forgiven. Where I have committed crimes with my heart you have committed crimes with your hands" she smirked. Guy held her steady look for a while, then reached out for her hand and gave it a light kiss that made her feel triumphant but somehow tainted and dirty. Of course she didn't forgive him, and she didn't quite forgive herself for being so false and deceptive towards him either. These lies and pretence was so far from the woman she wanted to be, but she felt trapped by the situation and when the cause is right then one must fight with whatever weapons one has at hand. For Marian her femininity and sly mind were vital for surviving in the Nottingham politics, and right now she needed Sir Guy to feel guilt or love instead of this devouring hatred that he seemed to harbour for her. In this moment of time the truth carried a price that was unreasonably high.

"Ah Lady Marian" sheriff Vaysey scoffed as he came into the room "You are looking rather scrawny, have you been unwell? I gather that nasty burn mark has healed to your satisfaction? Oh, never mind… It is quite perplexing how you insist on coming to these meetings even though you are nothing but a decoration, hm?"

"My father is unwell. I come in his place" Marian replied and made an effort to keep her posture proud and graceful as ever.

"Really? Poor Eddie… Spineless Eddie, Lord of the Mice… Perhaps we should put cheese in the corners and see if he scurries out from his hiding? Hm?" Vaysey laughed and Marian restrained herself from calling him Pippin in front of the pitiful council- mocking the sheriff wouldn't win her anything. All she needed was to get through this meeting without attracting more attention that she already had, yet she felt Sir Guy's gaze never leaving her. He looked confused, annoyed yet almost warm and it was difficult to say weather he was in fact pleased to have her there or not. The only thing she knew for sure was that there was lust in his eyes- admiration that made her feel sick but still very much aware of the advantage it could grant her.

"Very well, let us get this meeting started then" Vaysey sighed and gave Marian a hostile glance before he went on with the agenda.

---

Vix and Will saw Marian leave Nottingham castle in the afternoon. She walked swiftly up to her carriage accompanied by a rather gloomy Sir Guy and stopped as her driver went up to meet them.

"Samuel what is the matter?" she said.

"Mam, I do not know what has happened but the left front wheel won't carry us out of Nottingham, let alone all the way to Knighton"

"Oh! Are you sure?"

"Yes, it would be a hazard to step into it until I have changed the wheel" The driver looked ashamed, tilted his head down as if the fault was his "… I'm sorry Mam, I should have looked after her better… I seem to have been rather sloppy with the maintenance"

Sir Guy went up to the wheel and gave it a shuffle "This is falling apart! What it if had broken on the way here!? Lady Marian could have been seriously hurt!" he sneered. Marian bit her lip not to laugh at the irony; he was chastising her servant for accidentally almost completing a job he himself had commissioned on another man! He tired to have her assassinated and now he cared for her wellbeing all of a sudden? How very ambivalent.

"Oh it is quite alright Sir Guy" Marian smiled "I will ride the horse home and Samuel can stay in Nottingham over night to fix the carriage"

As Marian walked towards the stable she gave Will a quick nod and a shadow of a smile went over her features. The stage was set.

---

The sheriff wasn't a fool. Whenever the outlaws found a new way into the castle he made sure it wouldn't be used again. He had been filled with rage when he first found out about the secret passages that had enabled Robin Hood to stroll right into his bedchamber- but when the fury faded he saw it with quite different eyes. Apparently he had cellars that he didn't even know about and that could be exploited. He'd made sure that all ways into the damp rooms were cut off- building walls where there had been doors- until the only way down was through the passage that led from his room. It was the perfect place to store his silver, almost impossible to reach.

The outlaws and Vix Butcher met at the Salty Boar the evening before the great rescue, crouched together around a table in the darkest corner of the shabby ale house. In any other tavern the hooded strangers would attract attention with their hushed, sombre meeting, looking much like Death's henchmen. But The Salty Boar was not a place where people asked questions about the affairs of their brothers- mainly because that kind of behaviour was likely to reward you a dagger through your guts.

"Well" Robin said and took a sip of the bitter ale that was the only liquid the Salty Boar served "How did it go with the carriage Will?"

"It's all set. I fixed the wheel and Marian got away, although…"

"Although what?"

"Sir Guy accompanied her out to the carriage. Should we be alarmed?"

Robin felt a tug in his stomach at the concept of Marian spending time with Sir Guy; even though his jealousy was faint and irrational it was still there, but most of all he feared what Guy could do to Marian. Not to mention what he already might have done to her…

"No" he finally sighed, forcing himself not to get carried away. "I'm sure it must be a good sign if anything. So the carriage is in place and prepared. That is good, Will, you did good"

"It seems idiotic that I had to sneak out of the castle when I was in place already though" Will interposed.

"Yes well, we have to go through the plan, and what better place than this cosy little tavern" Robin smiled at looked over to Allan who was drinking his ale in big nervous gulps "Allan, be careful with the ale, I need you to stay sharp. You and Vix will be in charge of the rescue"

"Oh" Allan said "Though, I'm good with ale mind you. It gives me like a second sight on things"

"That's just a fancy way to say that the world gets blurry and out of focus you fool" Djaq laughed and Will gave her a rather annoyed stare. Their friendly bickering distressed him for reasons he didn't quite understand himself.

"If you fail in your mission, and both you and the Butcher sisters get killed- then please remind me to tell you 'I told you so'" Robin said "Anyway, Djaq got something for you"

Djaq went through her bags until she got hold of a small bottle. "Belladonna" she explained "The prison guards will sleep as little children" She put the bottle in Vix's hand and then added "Better make them a rather spicy meal though, it tastes appalling"

"Don't worry, I will have them distracted" Vix smiled. "I will not fail in saving my sister"

"Very well, I feel confident that I can trust you in this Vix. Now, we need a way into the castle…" Robin said and turned to Allan who shrugged his shoulders. This was the one part of the plan that wasn't quite finished yet.

"I'm not being funny but we need to be unseen right?" Allan said.

"Pretty much, yes... And we have to get to the sheriff's quarters"

"Well… Rather tricky that… But I think we could use a bridge"

"A bridge?" Much said, suddenly looking quite alarmed.

"Cheer up Munchy" Allan teased him "A nice little plank between the outer Castle wall and the actual main building. If we do it on the north side then we'll be sheltered by the tower, no one will see us… well, except if they look up that is…"

"Except if they look up!? That is insane, master…"

"No Much, I quite like the idea actually…" Robin said "A bridge! We haven't done that before. Getting up onto the outer castle wall shouldn't be to difficult"

"But what if we fall?!"

"Well then we die"

"Oh…" Much gave out a resigned sigh "Nothing new under the sun I guess"

"Nope" Robin agreed and gave Much a heavy thump on the back "We better leave Little John on the ground though, we need a man there anyway. Now, finish of the ale lads, we have to get our gear ready. We need two baskets… no three will be better… plenty of good strong hemp-rope, a solid plank and two iron-hooks…"

---

It is all good to find baskets, a plank, rope and hooks in Nottingham, but to climb up a castle wall unseen carrying all of this is a different matter completely. It would have been impossible without Vix, who made an effort to distract the guards while the gang scurried by shrouded in darkness.

"Ouch you're stepping on my nose Djaq!" Allan complained as the Saracen girl made her way up the pile of outlaws that stood pressed against the wall, cursing at the decision not to bring a ladder with them.

"It's not my fault" Djaq replied "Your nose is very big, it is hard to miss"

"I'm not being funny, but I do not have a big nose! Your feet on the other hand… I will henceforth call you by the name of Bigfoot"

"I will henceforth not listen when you call me" Djaq panted as she grabbed hold of the wall's edge to heave herself up. "Bignose"

"Will the pair of you just shut up, we're on a mission" Will sneered "Djaq will you take the rope and help us up? Or are you to busy flirting with Allan?"

"I'm not flirting! Give me the rope then"

Djaq tied the rope to a stone structure and they all climbed up onto the outer wall, with the exception Little John who stayed on the ground between the wall and the main building.

"Quiet" Robin hushed and crouched down "Be still until everyone is up… Right, now stay down and move gently, no sudden movements"

They half-walked half-crawled along the crest, lit by a faint moon that was peaking out from behind the swift blue clouds. Chilly winds stroked over the outlaws' crooked backs and played with the unkempt hairstyles, blowing through the solid stone buildings making whistling and creaking noises that broke the heavy silence. Nottingham was a sleeping city, a giant ogre that snored as he lay in an uneasy slumber, and they whispered not to wake the monster- moving slowly and gracefully through the shadows.

"This is it" Robin motioned for the gang to halt- a big tower threw its shadow over this part of the wall and there was a window in the main building between six and eight feet away, roughly speaking. "Get the plank out"

"Oh Lord, we will die…Master surely there must be another way… a better way" Much said and looked down into the terrifying gap that separated the outlaws from their target. It seemed to be calling him, sucking him down into its deadly embrace, and he could almost feel his body being shattered into blood-soaked pieces as it hit the ground. "We could just fight our way up the stairs?"

"Don't be such a spoilsport Much, this is our best chance" Robin smiled as they balanced the plank into place- forming a rather unsteady bridge.

"It's a bit wiggly isn't it?" Much pointed out "Won't we fall, and you know… die?"

"Djaq is lightest- she goes first. We tie a rope around her just in case. Then when we got one man on the other side, we can hold the plank into place"

The outlaws and Vix made their way over the unsteady plank in different styles- some crawling whilst clinging to the board with all the strength they could master, others balancing over in swift agile leaps while holding both arms out as if flying was in fact an option. Robin was the last one to get to the other side and he did it with an air of invincibility, strolling over with a casual smile on his face as if he was trying to say 'Look, that wasn't so bad! Whatever are you whining about?!' It wouldn't have surprised Much at all if he'd started to whistle, but instead the outlaw leader simply finished his display with an almost coquette leap to the window. Unfortunately the plank was shuffled slightly by the sudden movement and Djaq gave out a short little shout as it slipped of the window sill and tumbled down towards the ground. The outlaws froze when the crash echoed and bounced off the walls that amplified the sound, and it seemed so unreasonable loud- almost unbearable in the tranquillity of the night. They didn't dare to move or even breathe in the limbo they were in, in case that would bring them over the edge and make the slumbering castle aware of their presence.

"Ups" Vix Butcher said and smiled at the paralyzed figures that stood in restrained panic and waited for the world to fall apart. "You're such a show-off Bobbin… Robin I mean. Perhaps we should get going? Pippin's bedchamber is this way"

Robin breathed out and nodded.

"We're fine" Much panted "It is fine… Oh Lord… Five years in the holy land and we almost end up getting killed by a plank"

"Yeah, sorry about that…" Robin mumbled absently.

Two guards stood watch outside Vaysey's bedchamber, though standing might not be the correct phrase; rather they were leaning against the wall whilst taking turns in dozing off. Guarding was a rather monotone job and standing in perfect silence all night staring at stone masonry could bore the wits out of the best of men. As Vix approached the two men her hips moved teasingly and made them stir from the meditative state they were in. They stretched their backs and shifted the chain mail into place as a rooster parades his feather's to the hens.

"Matron Vix" one guard whispered and tried not to make to much noise when he moved- waking Vaysey could be a lethal mistake and it was not a risk he was willing to take.

"Sigurd" Vix smiled "…and Adam, dearest, this must be a dreadfully boring place to be stationed"

"Yer" Adam sighed "'Tis so Mam" The two guards moved to face Vix, unknowingly turning the backs to the outlaws that approached them from behind.

"Well" Vix gave the guards a compassionate smile "This is your lucky day then. You are just about to get the night off…."

Adam and Sigurd half-turned around with a puzzled 'huh?' just in time to catch a glimpse of two scruffy outlaws plunging the blunt side of their swords at them, and then the world went black.

"Two down, Vaysey is next" Robin said and opened the door to the bed chamber. "My gang, this way"

There was some commotion as the guards were dragged into the room, gagged, tied up and partly undressed. There was some more commotion as Sheriff Vaysey was awoken from his slumber only to be thumped into a less self-chosen sleep, gagged, tied up and partly covered up, since he apparently was one of these men who are just a little bit too comfortable with their own nakedness. Then there was some further commotion as the door to the secret passage was uncovered, swiftly unlocked by one of Vix's ingeniously formed hairpins and pulled open. The breeze from the passage way seemed colder than on their last visit, a ghostlike draught that carried a whiff of earthy, damp cellar-air.

"Well then" Robin said "Time to get down to business lads. Allan, take one of the guard's uniforms and accompany Vix to the dungeons. I want Much to have the other guard uniform and stand watch outside the room, don't worry, I'm sure you will excel in your job. Djaq, go to the window and signal to Little John with the lantern… Then I want Will to go down to the cellar- you know what to do there- and I stay here by the secret entrance" He crouched down and started to prepare the props "If we do this well then we will be done in an hour or two…. Or three… I think this Mission Impossible might just prove as easy as shelling peas"


	14. Of Birds and Men

**Hey,**

**Well here is another chapter… I hope you like it.**

**Marian: Yup it's going to be Will/Djaq eventually. **

**Comments always make me mighty happy. **

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter 14: Of birds and men

"It's like a crypt" Will mumbled as he grabbed one of the hooks and peered into the dark shaft that led down into the sheriff's new treasury "Good thing I'm not claustrophobic or anything"

"Don't worry Will" Robin smiled as he put a hand on the young man's shoulder "You will do fine"

"Djaq is smaller, she should do it"

"Well… you are stronger"

"Hey!" Djaq exclaimed.

"… and you're a craftsman Will, it will be easier for you to secure the hook"

"I'm strong!" Djaq persisted.

"Are you both going to whine about this?!" Robin sighed and gave the two outlaws an authoritative stare. They were in the middle of a mission and he certainly wasn't in the mood for pep-talking! "We are supposed to be the spirit of England and all you do is bicker and argue!" Absently he wondered to himself when the atmosphere in the gang had become this tense- the air seemed foul between them, the earth tainted beneath their feet, and even though it was mainly a general feeling and nothing concrete the cracks distressed Robin. This feeling of uneasiness had come upon him every now and then during the last weeks, or were it months even, but he'd never managed to get a firm grip on the source. Time seemed so vague when the world was crumbling around you, sometimes crawling on in slow-motion, and at other times rushing by so swiftly he only felt the breeze as it passed him. Now he had found some sort of ground again- regained his soul from the vacuum that had kept it in such a suffocating grip- but that also made the warning signals sound much clearer to him. A chill went down his spine as he remembered the last weeks, the futile struggle to stay sane and objective, the feeling of loosing everything and how all attempts to change the dire fate had been utterly and completely in vain. And even though there was so much joy all of a sudden, he knew that this truce could still escape him- he might still loose. The world was not a stabile place, everything changes and moves, floats and transforms. Now his gang was changing around him, the loyalties were odd, new constellations took the old ones' places. There were hostile glances, old pain that had been kept secret intermixed with new pain, friends avoided each other or only met over jagged words- his men were uncertain, afraid, hurt and jealous. He frowned and forced himself to shuffle this problem into the future, focusing on the matter at hand. He might have been a rather bad leader lately but that was about to change- he wouldn't let everything fall into pieces!

"Djaq" he said "Please don't make this difficult, I know that you are strong" Her eyes had something in them that told him that there was more to this than his insult, something that went much deeper, and he had a feeling it had to do with Will. He would have to make them talk with each other later, sort out this tangled mess. The mysterious Saracen woman nodded and gave him a smile that failed to reach the dark, sad eyes.

"Tell Will not to be such a coward, it doesn't become him at all" she said.

Robin smirked "Will, don't be such a coward. Go on- there is a lovely dark and damp cellar awaiting you"

"The spirit of England…" Will muttered as he made his way into the cold embrace of the secret passage way "I think England is in a bit of a trouble with us guarding its precious spirit"

---

Allan and Vix walked down the corridors of Nottingham Castle in an unfriendly silence, both wishing to rush this mission and get rid of each other's unpleasant company. Vix had always looked upon Allan as the man who tried to steal her sister, and Allan considered Vix to be the one who deprived him of Katie. But that was all in the past, whatever crimes they accused each other of had now been extended to include the sore story regarding Will Scarlet, and it was that matter witch finally made Allan talk to the striking red-headed woman.

"Why do you do it?" he asked as the couple reached the castle's kitchen area. This room- usually the loudest and hottest one in the castle- now lay cold and abandoned in the night with the shadowy figures of pots and pans forming an unseeing audience.

"Do what?" Vix sighed "Help you? Haven't we been through this already?!"

Allan snorted "Not that! I need to know why you break people. What do you gain in life from treating everyone like disposable products?!"

"Everyone _is_ disposable" Vix shrugged "'Products' was your choice of words, I would never use that regarding men. And I gain a lot. Look at us, all these years and you have managed nothing but to get yourself into an even deeper mess… And now you drag my sister into it as well! This pathetic living, 'honest' you call it, but what will that gain you Allan? Isn't that the real question? Who are you people to think you can save the world?! You are romanticised thieves struck by hubris"

Allan couldn't help but smile at the truth in the last statement; in a way it was a rather brilliant description of Robin Hood's gang of merry men, but obviously he couldn't tell her that.

"We help people" he said instead "Trying is all you can do mind you. But you... I'm not being funny but you are a disaster Vix. You come here and you sway Will Scarlet, twist his young head and suddenly nothing is as it used to be! Will… he used to be my friend, I cared for him alright, now we do nothing but fight, and Djaq… Djaq is broken- God only knows what demons this nasty story has brought out in her. You stole Will from us, why would you do that?!"

"Because I need him!" Vix snapped, instantly defensive as a cat guarding her kittens. Her mood often changed like this, laughter without warning turning into claws or tears giving way to a blistering smile. "Who in your pitiful little army would speak for me if I didn't have him?! He is the only one who stands up for me in your group, I need him! People are potential assets, Allan, _all_ people are potential assets! That is what you do not understand, you people insist on being 'good' at whatever price, just so that you can sit on your high horses and consider yourself better than your peers. I make my own way in the world. That is why I sway Will, and sway Sir Guy and all the guards, that is why I make my acquaintances into pawns, not friends, and that is why I always win in the end!"

"That is why you will always be lonely in the end mind you" Allan said and was rewarded with a shrill laughter.

"Lonely, Allan? If I remember it correctly that was always your demon, not mine. I am perfectly happy"

Allan furred his brows at her as the silence fell between them again. She stood and prepared a meal for the guards, spiced with a substantial amount of Belladonna to put them to sleep, and nothing in her posture gave away any other feeling than annoyance. He wondered briefly, as he had done many times in the past, if this was because she simply didn't have any real feelings, no real pain, or if she just wouldn't let herself show them.

"You left Katie" Vix suddenly said, and Allan was a bit taken aback by the realisation that there was emotion there after all. Just a faint tremble, but it was unexpected all the same "You left her when she needed you. You never asked her why she killed that man- you never took her into your arms and comforted her. She would have forgiven you Allan, if you had played your cards right. She wanted nothing more in this world than to forgive you but you just turned your back and ran. I cleaned her up, washed the blood of her skin- I took her hand and led her out of that town, away from the mobs. I didn't abandon her! Still you are this unforgiving to me Allan? Still you believe me to be nothing but a disaster? What is it with my choices that make them so much worse than yours?"

Allan was shocked to realise that he didn't have an answer. She had found his Achilles' heal with her usual precision and now she stepped all over it.

"What makes you think I have forgiven myself?" he finally said with a resigned sigh. This was the wrong time and place for a conversation like this "Anyway, hurry up with that Vixy, I'm not being funny but we really need to get going"

---

The outlaws in the sheriff's bed chamber had formed a sort of chain inspired by the very little knowledge the gang had of mining for minerals. Instead of running up and down the narrow shaft with the silver, the two hooks, some rope and two baskets had been made into a ropeway that transported sacks of coins from the treasury up to Vaysey's room. Will was down in the dark cellar loading silver into a basket, and then he and Robin both pulled the rope, forcing the filled basket to make its way up to Robin and an empty basket to take its place by Will's side. As Will filled another basket in the dungeon Robin and Djaq took the silver to the window where it was put into a third basket. It was tied to a rope and Djaq sunk it down to Little John on the ground, where he unloaded it. There was far too much silver to be carried out of the castle, and this was where Marian's part of the plan fitted into the picture- her Trojan horse that was in fact the very opposite to a Trojan horse. The silver would be loaded into her cart- it had been prepared for this very purpose by the skilled carpenter and infamous outlaw Will Scarlet- and then when Marian came to get it the next day she would simply take the treasure with her. If fact, Sheriff Vaysey might even see the silver leave the castle, and let it leave without doing a thing to stop it, because he just didn't have a clue. It was brilliant, bold and cunning, and the only thing that unsettled Robin was the danger Marian put herself into. He had screamed and begged her to change her mind, to just step back for some time and keep her safe, but she knew that this was a good plan and she never listened to his advice anyway. Thus after some half-hearted yelling she called him her Mother Hen and kissed away the last of his resistance.

The outlaws worked in silence, making sure the guards and Vaysey stayed blind, deaf and dumb and preferably mainly unconscious, and it was impressively effective. Robin was more of a half-plan kind of lad but now he felt himself marvel over the beauty of a perfectly executed plot, and he felt unreasonably proud of his gang. He was in good spirits (although always a bit worried about the state of the nation and Marian's wellbeing) and he felt completely at ease with the plan.

It is safe to say that some of the others were less amused. Will, who liked to work with his hands, had enjoyed putting up the ropeway, but now he found himself alone in a very cold and damp cellar. Big spiders crawled over his body and the flickering light from the candle he carried with him was little help to actually find the sacks of silver. He slipped end fell into the muddy floor as his own shadow took him by surprise- making him shy away in fear- and he was cold and wet and soaked in sticky soil. After a while his body started to ache from the physical labour; he had to carry bags from across the big crypt-like room since the sheriff seemed determined to make this treasury hell for thieves. Will didn't like this plan at all. If he had the chance to talk to the others he would have found that Much hated it as well, standing outside the room dressed as a very edgy guard. Still, it might have been well enough if he hadn't received some unwanted company. The guard who came through the corridor towards Much didn't seem particularly intimidating- he was doubtless drunk and seemed to have been crying. Still, it made Much's heart throb harder and he could feel sweat forming on his brow.

"Siggy…" the guard said as he came up to the outlaw and peered at him with unfocused eyes. "Sig mate 's tat you?"

"Um… well... yes" Much said after some hesitation.

"Dunno doesn't looki like it…" the guard continued, but then he simply gave out a resigned and utterly miserable sigh "… all guards look the same though" After that he started to cry and leaned on Much's shoulder "Siggy… I'm so unhappy… dunno wat to do anymore…"

"Oh?" Much said, shifting his body slightly in an attempt to make the man lean to the door instead.

"She… I just… I want her so badly… she I… I… but then Guy… and all… and my wifey, she if she found out I even… oh lord…" the unhappy guard sobbed "But just tat Vix, she is the one you know... _The one_…"

"Ah this is about her" Much suddenly felt a bit more at ease with the situation "Well I'm sure if you just sleep on it…"

"Sleep!? Wat? Why wud tat help me?!"

"Well, never underestimate a good night's sleep… And some food..." Much added as he was beginning to feel very hungry.

The guard gave him a suspicious glare as if making sure that this really was his mate Siggy, and then decided that he probably was even though he behaved rather oddly. He sat down on the floor, opening a flask of strong ale, and began to tell an unsteady tale of his vain, but pure, love towards Vix Butcher. Much decided that it probably was easier just to give in and settled down beside the miserable man trying to comfort him best he could. By the time the mission was over the guard, who was called Gerald, slept loudly in the corridor while tenderly leaning on Much's rather unwilling shoulder.

---

Allan waited patiently at the door to the dungeons, wearing a heavy guard's uniform over his shabby clothes, as he could hear Vix Butcher's teasing laughter rippling through the wood. She did this so well, and something that resembled admiration stirred in Allan; she may not be a good person but Vix sure could be mighty useful when you shared her goals. After a rather boring hour the door creaked open and Allan followed the red headed woman into the dungeons.

"They didn't have any keys" Vix said as they passed the two guards that slept with their heads hanging limp and drooling to their chests.

"Obviously not… The jailer got them and he isn't here now mind you. But it doesn't matter much to us does it?"

Vix smirked at him, a strangely friendly smile as they suddenly found some common ground between the two of them. They were both rogues and tricksters and they could pick a lock as easy as they turned a key. Vix moved her hand up to the red hair and pulled out a hairpin that was shaped much like a lock-pick.

"Not bad" Allan said before a similar item magically appeared in his own hand. "Ladies first"

Vix went up to the door that led down to the actual prison cells, the guards had been stationed in a small anteroom, and skilfully opened it.

Katie was kept in one of the open cells, that had only iron bars to separate it from the rest of the room, and she was waiting for them. Her small figure stood erect by the door of her cell that was shared by some prostitutes and a blind peasant woman, and the torches that lighted up the room made her red hair sparkle like fire. She was still dressed in her "Nightwatchman"-outfit, dark pants made out of some sort of brocade-fabric and a black leather jacket, and she even held the mask in her hand. As they moved up to her she gave the door a light shuffle and it squeaked open.

"Very bad locks on these cells" she said simply and gave her rescuers a faint smile. "I had to occupy myself with something while I waited for you"

Every muscle of Allan's body told him to rush up to her, carry her out of the castle as a hero sweeps his dame off her feet, but that really wasn't their style at all. Instead he simply stood and grinned at her, wondering how he should be acting in such a strange situation.

"Goodbye gals" Katie said to her cellmates, the hesitated a bit before she continued "You better stay here if you don't feel like getting outlawed. They will release you soon enough anyway…" And they really didn't have time to drag a blind peasant woman and giggly prostitutes around the castle, but Katie felt it was rather unnecessary to give away that particular reason. As she moved up to Vix she didn't give her a hug, simply nodded her head slightly in recognition "Vix, thank you for doing this"

"That is what family is for… bailing each other out" Vix smirked.

"Hey, don't I get a thank you?" Allan interposed "I'm here too you know"

"What do you want from me then?"

Allan opened his mouth to tell her that he wanted a kiss, but changed his mind as he remembered how Katie was. She would give him whatever he asked for but in this moment it would mean nothing if didn't follow her initiative. Their new found friendship was far too frail and tainted by the sins of their shared past.

"Nothing" he said and was rewarded with a look full of honest gratitude, and he felt his heart leap thinking that this was almost as good as a kiss anyway.

"Good. There is something I need to do before we leave" Katie said and laced her fingers with Allan's as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He felt a sudden excitement over the sensation of being this close to her, this tender intimacy that carried a whiff from such a different time.

"What?" he asked- his voice husky and a bit thick by the sudden change in the atmosphere between them.

"We need to get to the sheriff's office" she answered "You will see soon enough"

They went swiftly through the corridors, Allan and Katie as some sort of natrual couple that wouldn't let each other go, even though the touch became awkward and unpractical, and Vix following them silently like a ghost. Eventually they reached the sheriff's office, where Vaysey did most of his work and kept his pet-birds in big golden cages.

"What are we doing here Katie?" Allan asked as the couple went into the room "This is not a funny place to be…"

She smiled at him and finally let go of his hand. "No it is a rather evil place" she said "But I need to release the birds"

Allan stared at her disbelieving. Was that all they had come for?! He gave Vix a puzzled look but she stood stone-cold in the door and only shrugged her shoulders. Katie did things her own way.

"I'm not being funny…" Allan said "…but the sheriff will go nuts when he finds out about this! He loves those birds…"

"If you only love something when it's caged then you do not love it at all" Katie replied in a voice that was soft yet forceful and very determined.

She gave Allan a long gaze before she went up to the cages, where the birds slept under velvet blankets that were draped like tablecloths over the golden prisons. The sudden moonlight woke them up and made the little chests heave into the premature morning-glory's first twitter- shrill, joyful sounds that echoed through the dusky room and seemed so much out of place as a king among paupers. Allan noticed that Katie uncovered the cages as a magician reveals his trick, a smooth but swift twitch with her wrist that made the cloth dance down towards the floor, and she halted just a moment to watch her achievement before she moved on to the next glorified prison cell. After she had revealed all the cages she moved on to opening the doors to the cages, and the small birds seemed to hesitate, confused by this newfound freedom, before they moved gingerly towards the openings. Some took the daring leap into the great unknown and the continuous twittering broke into random chirps and got intermixed with the sound of tiny wings that moved swiftly through the room. Allan ducked as a vaguely bird-shaped projectile rushed past his ear and he felt the draught from the tiny feathers, realising that he smiled like he rarely did. It was not a cheeky Allan-grin but a smile of pure wonder and amazement, as a man watching a miracle unfold before him. Then Katie Butcher went up to the window and swung the glass-shutters wide open, letting in the brisk, clear night. She was a silhouette against the sky where billions of stars twinkled like inverted ink stains on a paper, and the gentle but forceful wind pulled her clothes and hair and made the red tangles dance around her straight, steady figure. She remained unmoved, her posture proud and the moon-lighted skin seemed like pale blue marble, where the big eyes reflected the few lights of the nights into stars of her own. There was a smile on the thin lips, the perfect Roman nose gave her such a noble profile, and Allan could see all this as he moved around to glaze at her from the side. Then the birds saw the opening into perfect freedom and they flew past Katie, so close she must feel the wind from their flight and the tiny wings brushing against her body, and that faint smile in her face stretched in pure joy, yet still looked almost coy. When it was over she simply stared at the sky, saw the birds turn into swift shadows, shatter and disappear, and Allan stared her, caring little for the birds when she was so amazing before him. He felt lost for words, enchanted by her mystery and the long lost love that still had him in such a chokehold, and he remembered his own words- to never trust a Butcher sister. But he found that trust was irrelevant in this moment of time, whatever she could take from him he was willing to loose just to hold her. No price was too high- he could love her still, love her without trust, he had to love her.

He moistened his lips and shifted slightly trying to force himself out of this spell she held him in, and he smiled his cheeky grin because that was what he did when the world came too close. It was his armour, the joking comments, the smiling trickster- he was a clown and a fool because a gag could shield him from the pain of reality and make it bearable.

"Well" he said and smirked at her in the moonlight "Not being funny but… I think you have become the woman I always knew you could be… An animal-rights fighter and all that jazz"

And then she laughed and he knew that resisting her would be futile because the smile that took over her face was so perfect, so flawless, and he had_ missed_ _her_ even though he never knew it until this moment. She held his past in her thin white hands, all the pain and anguish of young Allan, and perhaps this was what he had been yearning for all these years. Something from the past to cleanse history and bless the future, something to heal the wounds of yesterday, to make peace with whom he was. He was afraid sometimes, so scared of the future because there was nothing in it that he could call his own. Even though the thought terrified him Allan would lie awake some nights thinking that he was no one without Robin and the gang, nothing but a hopeless trickster or a rogue left outside society, and he had nothing to build on and no where to go if this ended. Life as he knew it was fragile, ironically being an outlaw was the only thing resembling an honest living that Allan had ever experienced, and there was no family, no dear old friends, no craftsmanship or fortune awaiting him when it ended.

But there could be her. Perhaps there could be salvation in Allan's past after all.

"Allan…" Katie said as the laughter faded into a soft ripple, and she leaned to his chest where his heart refused to stay still "Will you marry me?"

He was to taken by the situation already to feel any surprise by her question- instead he simply furred his brows slightly and let his palms find their way towards her waistline. She was so slim he could almost reach around her with his hands, tiny but steady as a rock, and her body heat warmed his cold fingers through the cloth of her tunic. The touch felt almost electric and it made Allan tremble in spite of himself.

"I have nothing to offer you…" he mumbled.

"I know" Katie responded "It doesn't matter"

His mouth was dry, to dry to give her an answer, and his mind too confused to know what to respond, but he swallowed and bit his chins to get his speech back. "I really think I should be popping that question mind you" he said "But yeah… why not"

And sometimes it is as simple as that to surrender to love. With only the moon and the oddly jealous eyes of Vix Butcher gazing at the couple from the door as witnesses, Allan reached around his love and pulled her close into a soft, warm kiss- simply because there weren't any good reasons in this world not to.

---

"Well, that was… nearly flawless" Much said s the outlaws gathered in a glen close to Knighton Hall. The morning had come with its frost and pale sunlight that filtered through the leaves that still clung to the tree's branches, and the group of outlaws were tired but victorious.

"Not quite over yet" Little John pointed out "Lady Marian still needs to get the silver from the castle"

Will had a severe look in his face, troubled and rather grumpy. He was still sore and dirty from his role in the scheme and thought that the atmosphere in the group felt vaguely hostile towards him. Vix had remained in the castle and the price for taking her side seemed perfectly clear to him. Djaq moved away when he tried to stand by her side and Allan hardly looked at him at all. "That carriage will be heavy for the poor horse…" he said, folding his arms in a subconsciously defensive position.

"It's a horse" Allan laughed, but without malice. He had his arm around the red headed little Nightwatchman, and Will suddenly realised that Allan avoided looking at him simply because he was distracted by something closer at heart. He frowned as he watched Katie Butcher. She looked better, almost pretty when she smiled, but there was nothing of her sister's radiant beauty in her. And more importantly she wasn't trustworthy. It puzzled him how Allan could stand in such perfect bliss with his arm tenderly encircling a cold-hearted murderess.

"Well, horses are people too Allan" Djaq pointed out and the Roxdale couple laughed in a way that made Will feel like he was the joke.

"There she is!" Robin suddenly exclaimed and the conversation was disrupted before it turned into an argument. He had been standing a bit away from the rest of the gang, gazing in the general direction of Knighton Hall, and now he finally saw Marian walking towards them. He met her halfway and greeted her with a tender embrace that made everyone feel rather uneasy, as if they moved in on something they shouldn't have, and it went on just a bit too long to be perfectly appropriate.

"Get a room" Will said, letting his bad mood get out over anyone even remotely in his way.

Marian smiled at her lover, then broke off the love-struck cuddling and went up to Katie Butcher with a curious look in her face. Two different women might have fallen into each others arms in a friendly hug in a moment like this, but both Marian and Katie were guarded and careful in their interaction with people. They didn't simply give in to intimacy- it made them feel uneasy unless they were perfectly comfortable with the receiver, and that kind of closeness wasn't something they gave away willingly. Instead they simply stood studying each other, and it felt so strange for Marian to see this girl as an odd replica of her own alter ego. The clothes weren't perfect copies, but it was close enough, and Marian knew that Katie must have scars that mimicked her own; this girl was no fool. It is not common in this world that a person gets the chance to stand face to face with someone else's interpretation of themselves, and the sensation was almost absurd to Marian.

"Well" she smiled shyly "I don't know what to say… Thank you… or I'm sorry. This is quite a mess"

"It turned out fine" Katie said in her normal simple way.

"It did… I just… Do you mind if I ask you why you did it? You don't have to answer"

Katie responded with a shrug and a smile. "We all need something to believe in" she said, and with that she turned in a way that made it clear that she considered the matter to be resolved.

The group stood for a while in the chilly morning and small talked, and then Marian pulled Robin's arm to exchange some words with him in private. The outlaws' voices were faint mumbles when they stopped but to Robin's disappointment she had chosen a spot where they remained clearly visible. She obviously didn't have the same things in mind that he did.

"You are upset" she said.

"I am?" Robin answered absently as he tucked in a lock of brown hair behind Marian's pink ear "Your ears are cold" he mumbled and gave her ear lobe a gentle peck.

"It is rather chilly. And yes, something is upsetting you. I can tell. Is it the gang Robin?"

Robin tensed slightly at her words and moved away a bit from her. How well she knew him!

"It is the gang isn't it?" she persisted "Djaq… she looks sad. And Will… well Will certainly isn't himself. Even I can see that"

Robin sighed "You shouldn't worry about this" he said "Not now"

"Because I am weak?"

"I didn't say that! It's just not your problem"

"But it is your problem, and you are my problem…"

"… Your _problem_! How sweet you are today my love"

"I only mean that you concern me Robin, and things that concern you concern me. You need not carry it on your own!"

"I'm sorry" Robin sighed and gingerly caressed Marian's cheek "It's been a long night… I _am_ upset about my gang. Djaq and Will used to be the closest friends- I even thought they would end up together at one point"

"And now something has changed?"

Robin nodded "They seem almost hostile… And Will and Allan… don't even get me started on them. I actually had to step in and stop a fist-fight between my own men!"

"Men…" Marian scoffed absently, then seemed a bit uncomfortable as she realised that she had said it out loud. "Sorry. What are you going to do about it?"

"Well… I will send Will and Djaq into town together later today, to watch you get the carriage out safely"

Marian sceptically raised an eyebrow at him to show her doubts about this way of handling things.

"Put them on corresponding tracks and see if they collide?" she said "I'm not sure this laissez faire attitude is the right approach to this Robin"

"Well then what would you have me doing?"

"Talk to Will!"

"That would be intruding, this is not a matter that concerns me Marian, I am an outsider in this"

"You are wrong! These are your friends, your gang"

"Why is it women always want to intervene in other peoples' business?!" Robin exclaimed.

"And why is it men rather walk away that talk things though?!"

"Why is it women always want to talk" Robin's tone was different now, the argument was still rather forceful but they smiled as they yelled at each other and he leaned over to steal a quick kiss that suffocated her next statement. When they broke away Marian decided to change the subject.

"I will ask Katie to follow me home. She bathed and dressed me once, even though the circumstances were foul at that point, she wasn't, and it my turn to return her kindness…"

"You are not taking her to Knighton!" Robin called out and Marian was slightly taken aback by the strength in his voice. "It is dangerous!"

She looked at him for a while- then laughed softly.

"Robin" she smiled "You're such a…"

"… I am not a Mother Hen! I am simply a man who falls in love with the wrong kind of women" he sighed "Alright, take her to Knighton, but be careful"

"I'm a nuisance" Marian smiled and leaned over to give Robin a teasing kiss.

He gave out a resigned sigh and pulled her closer. "Oh Marian" he said with a voice that was muffled by her soft warm lips "You have no idea…"


	15. Requiem

Ch 5: Requiem

Will and Djaq were walking side by side through the same gloomy Nottingham streets that they had treaded on the very day that Vix and Katie Butcher dashed into their lives. It was a rather sad walk, since it felt only like a shadow of the silent companionship that had come so natural to them back then. Robin's decision to send them into town together seemed almost cruel, yet he had insisted, and the uneasy silence had now evolved to something that resembled acceptance. They played an odd parody of the friendship they used to share, pretending they were comfortable and natural when both had preferred to crawl out of their own bodies and run away.

"So it looks like Katie is back" Will said as they sat down on a wooden bench waiting for Marian's carriage to leave the castle "…Djaq, can I ask you something?"

"You can ask, I might not answer" Djaq teased him "You ask such foolish questions"

Will gave her a serious and somewhat bashful smile "Do you… Are you upset that Katie is back?"

"Upset?" Djaq asked with a puzzled expression. "Why would I be upset?"

"But I thought… Because of you and Allan"

"Me and _Allan_?!" Djaq got a very amused expression as the insight suddenly hit her. "You think I got a schoolgirl crush on Allan-a-Dale!?" she scoffed.

"No! I mean… well you seemed" Will stuttered "You seemed…"

"I seemed, I seemed? You sound like Much"

"I just thought you liked him" Will mumbled and blushed wildly.

"Love is not my thing, Will" Djaq said "It is far… too late" The thought of her and Allan was absurd- the thought of her and anyone at all was absurd. Yet, as Djaq mused over it, she realised that had things been just a little bit different then it might in fact have happened. It wouldn't have been a passionate love story, rather a kind of friendly warm understanding. Love has many faces and Djaq and Allan could have found comfort in each other, simply taken their new found understanding another step and settled down with security and friendship.

"You can still find someone" Will said in an awkward attempt to comfort her "You are young"

Djaq shook her head "Not so young". She looked at the people that passed them in the streets, these pale-faced strangers that all seemed so similar to each other. It was hard to tell them apart sometimes, they were just Englishmen in the same way as a horse was just a horse to her. Age isn't merely counted in years, and as far as experiences went Djaq felt ancient- a Saracen girl pretending to be an English boy in a world so far away from her roots. She was a stranger here, would always be a stranger, and in case she would ever return 'home', she would find herself to be a stranger there as well.

"Have you never been in love then?" Will asked her and ripped Djaq out of her pondering. The atmosphere between them had shifted slightly- there was an intimacy that felt almost warm and tasted somewhat of the old days.

"Oh I have had my share of infatuations. There was this friend of my father, a scarred warrior who used to come by our house in the years when I was still growing into a woman. Then there was an English soldier that I tended to when I worked for my father… he taught me to understand your tongue" Djaq smiled at the reminiscence of these long lost friends. Safiia had been easily touched by people, sucked up their pain and joy as a sponge.

"A scarred warrior? An English soldier?" Will laughed "Not so sure about your choices"

"Sometimes you can fall in love with what you lack. You can fall for qualities that you wish you had. I wished to be strong and experienced, tough and ready for war" _And what does Will Scarlet wish for?_ she silently added to herself.

"I guess so" Will said and gave her a cheeky grin that he must have picked up from Allan. "The first girl I loved was called Erin, she had an abundance of honey cookies"

"Really? Tell me, what became of that?"

"I wouldn't know… I was eight and she got married to a fish merchant"

Djaq laughed. Will reminded her so much of the brother that she lost, kind and idealistic, and with him she sometimes felt like Safiia again. He was not shaped by a past of misery or failure- he had no younger self that he had left behind him. Safiia went behind Djaq as a shadow and Young Allan still plagued Allan-a-Dale, but Will was only Will. He sat silent beside her and gazed into the mobs, youthful and sensitive. Djaq felt a pang of pain when she realised that he was looking for Vix Butcher's colourful manifestation in the crowds, searching for the one that he hoped would be his one true love. Would he shed this skin eventually, Djaq wondered to herself. Would this boy that scanned streets of Nottingham- looking for a woman who would break his heart- perhaps become Will Scarlet's plagued past? She felt angry with him, angry with herself, angry with the world. She shouldn't feel like this, she shouldn't feel at all, yet she did feel. Finally Will sighed and turned to her.

"Where did we go wrong?" he asked her and Djaq shook her head at him to show that she was as lost as he was.

"Did we ever go right?" she laughed.

"Well, we were friends"

"We are friends"

"Are we?"

"Yes" Djaq smiled and put a hand on his shoulder, feeling how the young man twitched at her touch. There was something in the air between them, a sudden electricity that felt exciting yet somehow wrong, and Djaq removed her hand as swiftly as she had put it there. This could have been the perfect time to steal him back from Vix Butcher, and in a moment of brilliant insight Djaq realised that she could make Will Scarlet hers. Still she hesitated, withdrew from the closeness and shielded herself from the emotions. It didn't feel right, _nothing of this felt right_. Puzzled by her own emotions and the wounded expression in Will's face she smiled and tried to regain control over the situation.

"Marian should come soon" she said, but got very little response from Will. He didn't care much for the mission at the moment, frustrated and irritated by the situation as he was.

"I don't get it Djaq" he finally exclaimed "I can't understand where it all went wrong. Allan and you and me… I don't know how all this started and now I find myself in the middle of it- unable to make it stop"

It struck Djaq how very young and vulnerable Will appeared; a young man looking for guidance and help to swim over these deep waters. "Accept Katie" she said "Lie to Allan if you must. That is a start"

Will looked thoughtful and a bit bothered, but then burst out in a sudden laughter. "You know, I got this uncle" he said and smiled at Djaq "Who told me that women don't want the truth- they want a beautiful lie. I think perhaps men are not so different"

They smiled at each other and Djaq thought, that even if this wasn't like it used to be, it was still slightly better than yesterday.

"There is Marian" Will finally said, and the two outlaws watched the carriage leave Nottingham Castle as smoothly as if it was just a carriage and a somewhat, but not completely, fallen noblewoman returning home. The castle was in an uproar over the lost treasure but completely oblivious over the fact that the silver travelled ever so slowly through the gates, not even being stopped by the guards.

"And there is Vix" Djaq added with a sudden pang in her chest. Will looked excited at the sight of the red headed woman and Vix gave out a radiant smile when she discovered them. She ran up to Will who went to meet her, catching her in a forceful hug that swung them around while laughing like teenagers. The scene made Djaq frown and cringe where she stood engulfed in shadows. Being alone with Will had felt good, but as soon as Vix walked into the picture the balance in the world shifted once again. Djaq felt so lonely, and she realised in that moment, as she had done before, that loneliness was something you never got used to.

"We did it!!!" Vix exclaimed "Oh my lord, we did it… The brilliance of it all… We will have a feast tonight in the forest. Will, oh Will… and Djaq!"

She went up to the Saracen with a smile that never once flickered or yielded, and Djaq forced herself to return the gesture.

"I'm glad that you decided to accompany us" Djaq said and smiled, deciding to serve Will a beautiful lie as well.

---

There was indeed a feast in the forest that evening. The outlaws had company of the Butcher sisters and Marian, who arrived with a victorious smile, several bags of silver and enough wine to turn the camp into a student binge drinking-party at a 21-th century university. Alcohol flowed between bubbling laughers, the kind of rude stories that people like Allan and the Butchers found so hysterical, and one toast after the other. By dusk most of the commotion had eased out into a slurred murmur and the outlaws paired off or sat in smaller groups. Robin and Marian were lying on a cloak a bit away from the rest, cuddled together and sleepily engaged in slow, sucking kisses, while Robin stroked Marian absentmindedly with one hand and let her rest on his opposite arm. It seemed as if they were about to fall a sleep, every now and then making muffled humming noises and very content sighs between the loud kisses.

"Can't they do that a bit quieter?" Much complained. "It's rather distracting"

"Let them be" Djaq gave the lovers a long, melancholic gaze "They look sweet. Like kittens, trying to stay warm"

"Rather raunchy kittens mind you…" Allan interposed, gaining a smile from Katie that seemed to distract him from the conversation.

"Well… She is going to fall asleep with his tongue in her mouth and that really can't be healthy. For anyone"

Much's statement seemed to spur some amusement amongst the 'raunchy kittens', making Marian giggle and open her eyes. Robin smiled at her then lifted his head and turned to Much.

"Do you mind?" he said "We find you rather distracting actually"

He entangled his fingers in her hair and put down his head again to face her. Much thought the long gazes and sheepish smiles looked rather… well sheepish actually… but he decided that this was by far better than the sucking noises. He decided to try to shut out the heavy breaths and low mumbling giggles- wondering why it was so difficult when the camp was filled with far louder sounds, like Allan's singing and Vix's shrill laughter. The outlaws sat in pairs- Katie-and-Allan, Robin-and-Marian, Will-and-Vix, and Much briefly sensed what all singles on couples' dinners experience: completely and utterly left outside alone. He sat down between Djaq and Little John to make sure they didn't pair off as well. It didn't really seem plausible- Djaq's face looking sad and brooding and Little John in a drunken silence- but whatever was in the air this night seemed to have a rather unpleasant effect on the outlaws around him. Better safe than sorry after all.

"You are lucky there is no court gossip to worry about… They make hens out of feathers those people… worse even, they make entire hen farms from the mere shadow of a featherlike object" Much said "Not that it is true, any of it. Or most of it might not be. But it is just as bad anyway"

"Well…" Robin said and tilted his head slightly "They _are_ right about some things"

"Ah, yes well that might be so, but my point is…"

"… They were always right about us for example" Robin interrupted Much with a mischievous smile at Marian.

"Master!" Much looked horrified "Surely not all of it!" He had been rather mocked all those years ago for standing up for the young lovers' reputations- defending their honour when everyone else laughed.

"It was vaguely exaggerated…" Robin smiled in a half-hearted defence against his own accusations. Much watched how his master's hand painted playful circles on Marian's thighs and silently reminded himself to keep an eye on the two of them.

"Well" Allan said as he suddenly remembered something "I'm not being funny but I don't even want to know what they said about_ you_ Much… You should really refrain from making comments about stuff like Will's manly parts being very impressive you know…"

"What! I… No… I'm not… I mean, I didn't mean it like that!!!"

"Oh come on Much" Robin sniggered "Don't take everything so seriously. We won! Rejoice over the victory instead, and leave the quarrels for a sadder day"

It had been said that a happy ending is all about ending the story in the right place. We could leave the outlaws here, laughing gently at the blushing Much while celebrating the victories of the day, and it would indeed have been a nice ending. But alas, the story must be told as it happened, and there are yet a few chapters to be written down, threads to follow up, before a '_Fin_' can be added to this tragic tale.

Vix Butcher had been sitting by Will's side, gradually shifting her position until she used him much like a cushion, and she had seemed to be in the very best of moods. But as the party moved on she got silent and focused as her mind turned inwards, and Will did most of the talking. Katie, who sat not far from Vix and explored the new found closeness with her old flame, watched her sister tensely. Eventually she moved away from Allan and he got involved in a slurred conversation with Will instead. It was the kind of drunken "I love you mate"-talk that people often regret the day after. Thus they now sat with Allan and Will giving each other manly half-hugs while Robin and Marian were forced into some sort of chaste sitting position as Much wouldn't stop bothering them, and Katie sat down between Robin and Allan with a bothered expression. Then Vix Butcher rose from the hard ground and started to pace over to the wine.

It can be much talked about why Vix now did what she did, but the simple fact is that she only followed her nature. She was the kind of person who always works for her own means, no matter how callous or cruel they may seem to a bystander. It might be said in her defence that she actually stopped to hesitate before moving on with her plan. She glanced over at the gang of merry outlaws and realised with a rather displeased sigh that she liked these people and enjoyed their company. Then her eyes fell on Robin Hood and she allowed herself to lust a bit- he was a very pretty boy and she wouldn't mind a piece of him. But that would not happen, he had principles (Vix Butcher never had much success with ethical men) and he was stuck by the kind of love that lasts- namely the kind that has a solid foundation of deep friendship. More importantly, he was also about to die a gruesome death and she would be his murderess.

Vix made sure that she stood with her back at the outlaws as she clenched her hand around the chain that hung around her neck, and pulled it up from its hiding place between her breasts. Then she coiled it open with discreet movements so that it loosened from the chain and a small hole was revealed. The silver cross was hollow- in truth nothing more than a fancy cylinder- and even though there wasn't much room in it, there was still more than enough. She took a deep breath before she poured the poison into a nearly empty flask of wine, and quickly attached the cross back to its chain.

"What are you doing?"

Vix twitched as she felt Will's hand on her shoulder and looked up at his puzzled expression with the cross still resting in her palm.

"I'm sorry. I was thanking the Lord for this day" she said with a coy smile and stretched up to gently kiss the young man's willing lips. "Go back to your place my dear- I will propose a toast shortly. Let me just refill the cups"

She saw Will walk back on unsteady legs and grabbed a second flask with wine before she turned to the outlaws.

"A toast!" she exclaimed with a wide grin in her perfect features "You must allow one last toast. Put out your cups and I will refill them for you"

They did as she told them, ignorant of her true intentions, and she went up to Robin first, filling his cup with the last of the almost empty flask before poring wine from the other flask to the rest of the gang. Then she stood up in the middle of the rather ragged circle and raised her own cup. She looked at them, one after another, waiting for an almost dramatic silence to fall over the camp. It was a grand moment, she was majestic and imposing where she stood lit by the dancing fire and smiled victoriously. Only Katie looked doubtful, only Katie seemed to watch her sister with something that appeared to be resentment.

"Vix" she said and locked her eyes into her sister's "This is it isn't it?"

"What do you mean dearest?"

"We have found a place in the world. A purpose. We can slow down, change direction. I need you to say it Vix. Tell me that our loyalties are here, that we will fight for this. Tell me that these outlaws can trust the Butcher sisters"

The stare Katie gave her sister was so intense, it wouldn't yield, and the gang looked puzzled at the pair of them as Vix scanned her brain after a perfect answer.

"Yes" she finally agreed "You can all trust me"

Katie sat silent for a while, overcome by something that looked almost like sadness. Then she simply nodded and raised a cup of deep red wine towards Vix. "Very well then" she said "Get on with the toast"

Vix Butcher gave the assemblage a perfect, beaming smile and raised her cup high up.

"For freedom!" she said, and her toast echoed throughout the camp as they all followed her lead. Then nine cups of the finest burgundy wine was gulped down to celebrate the glory of success, victory and freedom, and the cheers and laughers continued to ripple through the assembly long after the cups were empty.

Little did they know it then, that one of the cups was spiced with enough deadly poison to kill ten fully grown men...

---

Marian always woke early. This was especially true when she had been drinking, even if ever so moderately, the day before. Her eyes flickered open to an outlaw camp that was lit by the first light of dawn, the kind of soft glow that surrounds the world right before the sun rises over the horizon. It was cold, although the blankets and furs formed a snug cocoon around her body, and an eerie morning fog encircled the tree trunks like a fallen cloud. The moist forest smelled of earth and leaves, and the sense tickled her nose as it was mixed with the warm and musky scent of the man by her side. She had her head tucked in under Robin's chin and the cloth in his tunic creased under her cheek as she rested her head on his soft shoulder. His arm lay limp around her waist in an embrace that had been lost in sleep and Marian gave out a content sigh by the gentle tenderness of it all. No bed had ever seemed lovelier that this rug of leaves in a chilly Sherwood Forest, yet there was something ever so subtle in the atmosphere that alarmed her. It brought her out of her comfortable drowsiness and made her stir into something that reminded of fear- an uneasy but diffuse anxiousness. Somehow the world felt out of balance, something in the air was wrong- the slightest shift in reality that distressed and worried her. She could feel her heart beat nervously in her chest and turned her attention to the man at her side. Robin was silent and still- too still, she thought in a moment of paralyzing terror that made her feel tense and cold as a body in rigor mortis. But then she sensed the deep, even breaths and she realised that he was simply completely relaxed. She breathed out and felt a bit calmer, although still anxious enough for her body to seem uncomfortable and stiff.

She shifted her arm as she pressed her body closer to Robin and her hand found its way in between his tunic and undershirt. Thus tucked in between the layers of her lover's clothes Marian sought comfort, resting her palm of Robin's beating heart and felt it intensify its steady pounding under her touch. He stirred from his slumber and pulled her tighter into a warm embrace, nuzzling her hair and giving her forehead a rather absentminded kiss.

"Marian are you awake?" he mumbled with a voice that was muffled by strands of tangled chestnut hair "It's not even daybreak"

"Mm I know" Marian said and played a little with the thin fabric in his shirt. Robin moaned drowsily and gave out a hoarse little laughter.

"Mhm…Go back to sleep you horrible morning person" he sighed with a very content smile on his lips, before drifting back into a deep slumber once again.

Marian smirked slightly but still felt uneasy and tense and found it impossible to follow Robin's orders. She wondered if he would mind being awoken properly by tender kisses, but quickly dismissed the thought and started to listen to the sounds around her. Something _was_ wrong! She knew it instinctively but found it impossible to pinpoint exactly what distressed her so. Reluctantly she eased out of Robin's arms and heard him mumble her name half sleeping. It was cold outside the furs and blankets and body heat- a damp chilly autumn morning- and she shuttered a little while trying to rub herself warm. She looked around the camp and saw Much lying on his back not to far from Robin- tucked in under layers of clothes and something that looked like a fishnet made out of colourful yarn. She smiled a bit when she recognised it as his beloved jumper and watched her old friend with tender amusement. He seemed well enough, and Little John sat by his side, leaned against a tree with half-open eyes, and looked much like a guard dog- or rather guard bear. He sat watch but hardly noticed Marian and seemed quite hung-over.

She turned around and found a rather lonely bundle that slept a bit away from the rest. Djaq shivered slightly even in sleep, far away from the fire and the other outlaws' body heat, and she laid curled up into a foetus position, hugging her own knees tightly. Marian noticed that someone had made an effort to tenderly drape extra blankets over her and wondered absently who it could be. Even though the Saracen girl was cold, she seemed perfectly fine and yet Marian's anxiousness wouldn't yield. That only left the mess of tangled limbs and colourful cloth that occupied the area closest to the fireplace. Katie and Vix Bucher were pressed close together between Allan and Will and they seemed much like new born puppies trying to stay warm. Marian felt herself freeze when she went up to them- one of the bodies was too still, one of the breaths too shallow and uneven. Something _was_ out of balance!

Robin had stirred as soon as Marian left his side leaving nothing but a cold emptiness in her place. He wondered for a while why his chest had been deprived of her warm hand and curled up to where he expected her to lay. But instead of her wonderful feminine curves there was nothing but unpleasantly hard ground and he sighed before forcing himself up to a sitting position. "Marian?" he said and found her figure in the other end of the camp. For a moment he was struck by her sheer beauty, feeling utterly and completely overwhelmed as the first rays of sunlight illuminated her features, but then he saw the tenseness in her movements and the frown that furred her forehead.

"Marian?" Robin said again as she crouched down by some sleeping outlaws "What is the matter?"

"Robin, wake Djaq" she said without looking at him. "There is something wrong with Katie"

---

The camp went from sleep to perfect clarity within a few confused seconds and the serene morning glory was disrupted by a buzzing activity that only Allan-a-Dale and the pale Katie Butcher slept through. Later recollections of the dire events have attributed the following first thoughts to the outlaws as they were so rudely awoken:

"Finally! Someone is coming to relieve me of my watch duties" Little John mused queasily.

"Oh Lord, can't they make their own breakfast every once in a while!!!" Much thought annoyed through a pounding headache "Christ I'm hungry…"

"Allah be with me, here we go again!" Djaq reflected as she reached for her sword.

"Damn it, how did I end up here?!" Vix Butcher ruminated and felt temporarily annoyed by her lot in life.

"Where did I put my blanket?" Will pondered "Oh there it is… never mind…"

---

Allan-a-Dale's first thought when he finally woke up was more in the line of 'ouch'. It was a joke among the outlaws that he could sleep through anything- they would even have bets every now and then regarding what would wake him up.

There were no bets going on this morning though, and if there had been no one would have expected him to sleep as long as he did. Djaq and Marian were practically crawling over him trying to get some response from Katie, shuffling and shaking her body whilst yelling her name in escalating desperation. Finally Allan felt a sharp pain in parts that he preferred to be touched more tenderly, and he was torn from his sleep with an anguished moaning. He squirmed and curled up to protect himself and then opened his eyes to see how had given him such a rude awakening. He felt a bit shocked to see Djaq's face so close by, glancing down at him with big sorrowful eyes before she turned away from him. Then he studied her slightly puzzled through the lingering pain and saw that her knee was pressed tightly against his thigh. It made him glare a bit at her to find this reason for his agony, before he spoke with a hoarse morning-voice.

"Djaq it's not that I don't find your Saracen methods of seduction interesting" he croaked "But I'm a one-woman man now you know. I'm not being funny but you'll have to shove your knee into Will's manhood instead- if you can find it"

"Allan, I'm sorry" Djaq said with a voice that Allan thought sounded strangely compassionate and tormented considering the situation.

"Yeah no problem" he grinned at her with a cheeky smile that became spiced with a tad of anticipation as a thought hit him "What are you doing here anyway Djaqie? Are you and Katie up to something… something involving knees even?"

Djaq shook her head. It was early in the morning, she had just waked him up by accidentally putting her knee between his legs and he still had the presence to joke! It broke her heart to see the joy in his face, ignorant of the disaster that was about to shatter his life to pieces. She drew a deep breath and put a hand on his shoulder.

"No" she said "You don't understand… _I'm sorry Allan_. It is Katie. She is… I do not know what is wrong, but in the name of Allah and your God… prey for her soul for I do not know how to make her well again"

---

"We must get a doctor, right?" Allan was wide awake by now and sat helplessly stroking Katie's forehead. He waited desperately for the eyes to flutter open or even the pale lips stretch into a faint smile, but apart from the uneven breaths there was nothing that gave any indication of life in her demeanour. The body was stiff and ashen and seemed unnatural where it lay perfectly still surrounded by the shocked outlaws. Djaq, Will and Allan sat crouched around the lifeless Katie while Much and Little John stood in the periphery like observers stopping by the scene of a disaster. Robin had his arms protectively around Marian who had left her place by Katie's side and stood with her hand pressed over her mouth.

"Djaqie!" Allan persisted "We must get a doctor!!! You have to… have to help her. Wake her. Why doesn't she wake up!?"

Djaq looked over at Allan with sad eyes. She might be able to treat some of these symptoms but the elusive, underlying reason to Katie's illness would still kill the young woman. Djaq had been confused at first, unable to tell what was wrong with the woman they all expected her to treat, but she was good at making quick diagnoses and she had scanned her brain for similar cases. Now she knew with perfect clarity what it must be, but she failed to understand how! She had to talk to Robin, and didn't know how to tell Allan about this or in what order she should do it.

"Allan…" she said as her eyes searched the camp and a sudden chill ran down her spine "Where is Vix?!"

Will frowned and looked around before he shrugged his shoulders. He had forgotten all about Vix as soon as the full extent of the catastrophe had been revealed, feeling a need to stand by Allan's side and offer Djaq help.

"Never mind that harlot! She probably couldn't take it that's all" Allan exclaimed "Djaq you must help Katie, why won't she wake up!? Djaqie!" His voice was shrill with restrained desperation and Djaq forced herself to bring him the news.

"She will die, Allan" she said "There is nothing I can do. I am sorry. I have seen this before, and there is nothing anyone can do about it"

"What!" Allan looked down at Katie, saw the chest heave in breaths that were even more strained and ragged than before, and knew perfectly well that Djaq was right but wouldn't admit it to himself "What you… you have some… rudimentary medical training and, and you can say… I'm supposed to believe you, _a woman_, a heathen… We need a doctor! Robin we need to fetch a doctor to the camp!" He cried as he spoke and his voice was unsteady between panting breaths "Get your hands off her Djaq!" he scoffed, giving in to anger in a way that Robin could remember being his own last resort when the world was crumbling "If you can't save her then don't touch her… You give bad vibes alright?"

"Allan…"

"Just leave!"

Djaq backed off and decided to give Allan some space and time to cool off. She turned to Robin and Marian.

"I need to talk to you Robin, in private" she said, and he nodded before he took Marian's hand in his and started to follow Djaq away from the dying Katie Butcher. Djaq smiled a little when she realised how naturally the leader had incorporated Marian when she asked him for a private talk, as if the two of them were one person. Though, she also knew that he wouldn't leave Marian when she was distressed, under any circumstances, and what one told Robin Hood one might as well tell his fiancée.

"What is it Djaq?" Marian said and frowned a little.

"Poison" Djaq said "She got less than an hour left to live"

"Poison! But why would anyone…" Robin called out before he realised that everyone in the camp had turned to them with shocked expressions in their faces.

"So much for privacy…" Djaq mumbled.

"Poison!!!" Much exclaimed "Master, why… How!?"

"How would I know!?" Robin let go of Marian's hand and started to pace around. Somehow someone had poisoned a person in his camp for reasons that eluded him, and he could feel panic rising in his chest. Suddenly he turned to Marian.

"Marian how are you? Are you… do you feel fine?"

"Me? Yes I'm perfectly fine. Why?"

Djaq watched Marian's puzzled expression at Robin's question and the relief in his face when he got her answer.

"No reason" he said "Is everyone fine? We need to know if anyone else has been poisoned"

"Everyone is fine" Djaq interposed when she realised what had made Robin so nervous all of a sudden "Only Katie has been poisoned. She must have been the target… But why?" Djaq shook her head at her own question "Why would anyone kill Katie?!"

"Djaq!" Allan's voice was coated with panic as it reached the Saracen "Djaq come fast, she doesn't… Why doesn't she breathe!? Oh Lord!"

Djaq rushed over and there were a couple of tense seconds in the camp as she carefully checked Katie's vital signs, and then she leaned back.

"I'm sorry" she said "She is gone"

"What! No! No not yet! She isn't gone yet! We should have gotten a doctor… we should have… Katie!!! Kate… Sweetheart… Wake up!"

Djaq and Will rose up so that only Allan sat down by Katie's stiff body and they all watched the scene, some with tears, others with nothing but blank shock. They saw Allan cry and shake his lover's body, get increasingly violent as he tried to force her up from this sleep. He slapped her, kissed her, screamed at her with a voice that was hoarse and trembling, strained by tears that build up in his chest. Finally he slowed down, stroked her and held her while begging her to come back, to wake up, but she remained stone-cold and lifeless in his arms.

"Wake up! Katie, wake up" he said "Katie… Katie… Wake up… Don't die, don't… I can't… Katie! Please Katie, wake up, wake up…. Wake up!!!" He let her fall from his embrace, stroked the hair and arranged the locks around her pale face, closed the unseeing eyes that had been forced open by his treatment "Come back…" he sobbed in a last desperate attempt, then simply sat shaking by her side. They had never seen him like this, never seen Allan-a-Dale fall so hard to the ground, never seen him this unshielded and vulnerable.

"Vix did it" he finally said, the only one who saw the truth "It was a mistake. Katie sat by Robin. She changed the glasses of wine because she knew her sister. That was why she asked Vix if she could be trusted. If her sister lied to her face then Katie would die, if she didn't, well… Then she had something to believe in"

Allan rose from his position by the corpse and paced over to the other side of the camp where his gear lay carelessly thrown to the ground.

"… She will have taken all the money" he continued "This was a distraction. She can't move fast with all that silver… We track her… take the money back and kill that heartless witch"

The outlaws were so taken aback by the story that they simply started to collect their things, unable to think of anything appropriate to say. Djaq covered up Katie's body with a blanket and then turned to Allan.

"Allan" she said "Are you ready?"

He lifted his head at her and clenched his hand around the sword.

"Yeah" he said, then made a fast, unexpected leap up to Much's cooking gear and kicked them hard with his foot so that the pots and pans tumbled into the fire. "She!" he screamed "She… she will pay for this… As God it my witness Vix Butcher will not land on her feet this time around!!!"


	16. Here is the smell of blood still

Chapter 16: Here is the smell of blood still

You don't look back. You don't regret. Follow that idiom and life will be easy. Don't feel- don't linger by the setbacks or leave the beaten path because it makes an unexpected turn. Let those rules define your life and you will never fall far, never be beaten down by flaws in the plan or bumps in the road. Life will be easy. You will prevail.

She had always obeyed that manifesto, never regretted or looked back, and the life she had been rewarded was easy but callous. Like a cat she always landed on her feet, like a cat she owned every house she ever took up space in, forcing the world to succumb around her rather than yielding to it, and like a cat she sometimes allowed herself to play with her prey. She had enjoyed it. She had risen from a nothing to a someone and never regretted the lives she destroyed on her way up. Until now. Until now she had always prevailed, and left even the flawed plans with a beaming smile. Until now she had never regretted anything.

As Vix moved swiftly through the Sherwood Forest in the crisp autumn morning Katie's face danced before her. She saw her eyes- accusing or sad or just the blank mystery that they usually were- in the tree trunks and fallen leaves. She heard her voice in the wind. She felt her thin, cold fingers stroking her in every branch that brushed her body.

_This is not how it is supposed to be!_

Yet this is how it was. And she forced her mind away from the disaster, focused on the plan that must continue. She could not disobey the rules that had guided her throughout her life, could not linger here simply because she experienced regret for once. The plan still worked, and she would execute it as planned. Looking at it though a disinterested observer's eyes this solution was slightly worse, simply because Katie would die faster than Robin would have, and as distractions go this one wasn't as distractive as the one she had in mind. Robin's death would have left the outlaws shattered and grief-stricken without a natural leader. It would have bought her more time to have Robin killed than Katie, and as a sweet bonus Prince John would have been pleased to know that she had brought down another one of his enemies.

Vix had two horses with her and they were heavy with the stolen silver. Even though she had the advantage of the prey- that it needs only to get away and not to win- she knew that the outlaws would track her down and catch up with her. That was why she walked down this particular road, allowed herself one detour that would benefit her in the long run. The forest opened up before her and between the trees she saw the white walls of Locksley Manor. She smiled as she moved onto the yard, forcing the horrors of the last hours into a dark corner of her mind. This was good- she was winning- she always won.

And yet…

…Yet…

_This is not how it is supposed to be!_

---

"There is something fishy about this" Will pointed out as the outlaws stopped to make sure they were on the right track "She had definitely been here but this is not the way to Nottingham. Do you think she might be lost?"

"Vix Butcher is never lost mind you" Allan snorted "If this is the road she has been walking then this is where she wanted to go"

"Well… I'm just saying, she's no forest person"

"I know her better" Allan sneered. He wasn't in any of his better moods, edgy and easily irritated, but people can tolerate a lot from friends when they are stuck down by grief, and Will simply sucked up the mockery.

"If you say so" he said "Still, this is odd… Where is she going?"

Robin stood silent and brooding by Marian's side, chewing absentmindedly on his lip as he watched the unmistakable tracks.

"We would have noticed had she been lost" he finally said "She would have walked in circles... Allan, what would you say Vix Butcher's most defining trait is?"

Allan gave him a suspicious glance "Selfishness" he said "She always works for her own means"

"Exactly!" Robin mused "We need to think as she does lads… and ladies… What does she gain from going to Nottingham if she works for Prince John? Vaysey is nothing but a middle hand to her- it benefits her to cut him out of the equation"

"Then she is going to London" Marian said as she realised what Robin was thinking "Though this is not the nearest way there either"

"No. This is the road to Locksley" Robin continued "Marian would you put on your mask? Just in case we bump in to anyone… It could be a trap and if Guy sees you here with us…"

"… then I'm in trouble" Marian finished the sentence. She was already dressed in her Nightwatchman clothes but now she put on the mask and Robin stole a quick kiss before he pulled up the scarf over her mouth.

"I would rather you stayed in the camp" he pointed out.

"You know I won't do that"

"I know… But please just stay hidden if we meet Gisbourne"

Marian hesitated a while before she realised that Robin had a point; right now that would be the wisest action. "I will stay hidden" she said with a voice that was muffled by the cloth "Unless you need me"

Robin nodded and motioned his men to continue the pursuit. He had a bad feeling about this and the outlaw leader knew that his gut instinct rarely was mistaken.

---

She was his punishment.

There had been two sleepless nights since Sir Guy found out that Lady Marian was alive and this is what he had realised during the waking hours. He could plot to kill her again, but in spite of all this rage he still wanted her to live, still wanted her to be his even. But Sir Guy would never have her. His crimes and her crimes lay between them and she would never love him. Instead she betrayed and lied to him without regret, she would despise him for what he had done to her and he would hate her for not loving him. To be haunted by this treacherous woman would be his punishment, something he had to live with and endure. It made him furious. He had lashed out at his kitchen maid today, but that had only given him a headache, and he had given her coins to lessen the guilt that he knew he should be feeling. Insanity. This was so very close to insanity.

The sun shined down on Locksley Village from a clear blue sky this morning and the colourful leaves of Sherwood Forest looked like a serene fire- a wall of flaming trees that hid the secrets of the wild. As Guy glanced over to the forest edge he saw a woman emerge from the foliage, leading two heavily packed horses in a pace that made him think she was in a hurry. It took him only a moment before he puzzled realised that it was Vix Bucher, and she seemed ridiculously out of context. The sheriff would be pleased to know he had found her- the red headed matron had gone missing in the very worst of times. Her sister was gone from the dungeons and all the silver had been boldly stolen by Robin Hood that very same night. Surely she knew something, and to see her like this made Guy suspect that she knew more than they could have imagined. It was with a vague feeling of guilt mixed with curiosity that he now approached her, remembering how angry she had been with him on their last encounter.

"Matron Vix" He said "Always a pleasure. I must say it is interesting and quite unexpected to meet you like this"

"Interesting indeed" Vix smiled "But a pleasure? Let's not be polite Sit Guy, you and I have toyed with each other"

Guy raised an eyebrow at her and smiled in spite of himself. He found her charming, very attractive and quite amusing- in spite of despising her for what she was, there had evolved a sort of liking during their weeks together. "And you have been a rather entertaining toy" he said "What are you doing here?"

"I need help" she smiled "Robin Hood had followed me here and you must stop him"

"Really" Guy burst out and there was genuine surprise in his face "But why…"

"There is no time for chit-chatting! Take your men and intercept him, he will follow my tracks"

"You want me to simply believe your words and walk willingly into this? How do I know it is not a trap?"

"You don't. But help me, Sir Guy, and the day I die I will make sure the Devil knows that you do not belong with us"

"The Devil?" Sir Guy laughed mockingly "And he will listen to you, another fallen woman"

"If he is a man then he will listen to me, men always do. You should know that Gizzy"

"Not good enough" Sir Guy sneered, annoyed at the recollection of the power she held over him "My men will take care of your horses and hold you in house arrest while I take care of your troubles"

He took a step towards her and she suddenly twitched and hissed at him "Do not touch me!" then she put on a wide and rather flirty grin "Or by all means, do touch _me_ if you will, but you must not touch the horses. I will give you a better reason than a deal with the Devil"

"Really? A better reason?" Guy said with one very intense eye on the horses that she protected so violently. They were heavily packed and he realised that she must have robbed the robber- trusting Gisbourne to be her getaway. It tingled in him as it became clear that the all the sheriff's stolen silver was within his reach, so very, very close, more riches than he could ever dream about as the Pippin Vaysey's henchman. Then he saw her reach in under her dress to pull out a letter.

"Here" she said and gave it to him "I gather you can read My Lord?"

"Of course I can read!" he snapped and opened the letter, recognizing that it was written in perfect handwriting, first in Latin, then in English. The message was straightforward and formal but without the kind of elaborations that official documents usually had.

_Dated the sixth of June, Year of our Lord 1192,_

_It will hereby be known, that from this day and henceforth, the woman Vera Butcher, also known as Vix, is under the patronage of the Royal Crown in the name of His Majesty Prince John, regent in the absence of his brother King Richard the Lionheart, and She must not be under trial or held against Her will, and as the Lord is Our witness, any crime against Her will be considered a crime against the crown. _

_Signed_

_His Royal Majesty Prince John_

The note was followed by a number of imposing royal seals, and Guy read through it twice in Latin and three times in English to make sure his eyes didn't deceive him. Finally he folded it together and gave it back to Vix without a sound.

"So it seems I'm the one with friends in high places" Vix exclaimed, unable to hide the rather smug triumph in her voice. "You should be persuading me to help you"

"Yes…" Guy reluctantly agreed, gritting his teeth and clenching the big hands into hard first. "My manor is at your disposal matron Vix, I need to get my guards. There is an outlaw to catch apparently…"

Guy forced himself not to lash out at the woman before him, furious over the grin in her perfect features and the note in her hand that held more power than he would ever acquire. Still, if this meant a chance to get Nottingham's most infamous wretched outlaw in chains then the day might still turn in his favour. Robin Hood, the man who possessed what Guy wanted… This man who fought with 'right' on his side, who won Marian over with his charitable ways and still held the hearts of Sir Guy's people. It was all so easy for him- he charmed the world and did it with such ease. Gisbourne never had the power of words in his favour, he felt awkward with other people, never knew what to say or how to act. On several occasions had he spent time with a lovely lady only to see her get increasingly bored with his company, and make faces across the room to some friend in order to get sympathy. They made him into a joke, a predicament rather than a company, felt uneasy in his presence and scanned for ways to escape him without being appropriately impolite. Robin was such a natural star, the kind of man who owned the rooms he walked into and made women seek his company, who never ran out of words or felt awkward. He had it easy, the brilliant warrior, the ladies' choice, the love f the populous… How could he ever understand that the real world was not quite so simple?! You couldn't just solve unsatisfying politics by turning to theft and lawlessness… People were just people in a war- they were all pawns, the peasants, the nobility... No heroes or villains, simply those who obeyed the law and those who broke it. Guy would quench that smug smile on Robin of Locksley's face for good- break Marian's heart through her lover's blood. Hood would die by his hand, and Guy would win the war through force- there was no use in loving a still heart.

---

If you live in the forest long enough you learn to know it in your heart and instinctively feel when something in your surroundings is alarming or threatening. Perhaps it was the unnatural silence that made Robin motion to his men to crouch down and progress with careful, slow movements. Perhaps it was a rustling in the leaves that made the outlaw leader push Marian to the end of the group, whispering for her to stay back and be hidden. Or perhaps it was the way the wind blew that made him tensely watch his surroundings, much like a wild animal fearing that it was being lured into a corner. He was more on his guard on this mission than during normal circumstances, because he had his love with him and needed her to be kept safe. She would slap him if she knew how much his mind was set on protecting her, and then she would kiss him for being so concerned, but now she simply obeyed his commands and kept herself some distance behind the rest of the group. Because they were going down a slope Marian then saw the ambush slightly from above, as if it was a play in a Greek amphitheatre.

"Hood!" Sir Guy sneered as he emerged from behind a boulder, entering the scene like a dark cloud. "You are surrounded, put down your weapons"

Robin tensed and looked around him, saw Gisbourne's men in their bee-suits aiming swords and axes at the outlaws, and forced himself not to glance towards Marian at the risk giving her away.

"There are scarcely two and a half of your hired soldiers for one of my desperate outlaws" he finally said "We can give you a fight"

"You could" Guy agreed "If I didn't have my three best archers aiming at you in this very moment"

Robin followed Gisbourne's eyes and cursed silently as he saw the three archers up on a height.

"Give yourself up now and I may spare your men" Sir Guy said "…Spare them a slow painful death as opposed to a quick merciful one that is…"

"We're not giving up!" Will exclaimed and earned a rather melancholic look from Robin "We die fighting or not at all"

Allan opened his mouth to disagree with him, but in that moment the conversation was disrupted by a commotion coming from the hill where the archers stood. There was a series of punching and moaning noises, and then one of the archers tumbled down the slope in a mess of whirling leaves and twigs. Robin's eyes grew wide with a restrained desperation as he saw Marian, dressed as the Nightwatchman, twirl around in a number of kicks and thrusts that disarmed the archers or at least distracted them from what they should be doing. Then he forced himself to regain control over the situation and shouted at his men to take up arms.

"Now! Men! Fight!" he yelled "Back to back, strike to wound, not to kill"

It was a chaotic and unchoreographed battle where there seemed to be limbs and weapons everywhere. Little John's staff was swung so closely over Djaq's head that she could feel it stoking her short dark hair before it hit a guard right across the mouth, and Robin disobeyed his own orders, leaving his back unprotected while he fought in a crazed frenzy. Much did his best to protect his master but had trouble keeping up, and soon the situation went out of hand. They were shattered, tried their best to beat a way out of the chaos and simply run for their lives.

Allan stumbled backwards over a guard's fallen body only to be saved from a sword that was thrust violently into the air where he had been standing, and as he scrambled to his feet he saw an opening into freedom. He made his way to the thorny shrubbery, knowing instinctively that there would be a ditch behind it, and threw himself into it with little thought to his fellow outlaws. This battle would not be won, it seemed, and he needed to get away, needed to get revenge at the one he hated most in this world; Vix Butcher, that murdering harlot, she had taken everything from him. His life, his love- his entire world fell today because of her! He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as a stray arrow hit him, but kept running all the same. Allan dashed away from his friends, away from this last stand, away from this lost battle. He turned his back as he had done before- once again he turned his back on it all.

Will noticed that Allan was missing but didn't try to follow or call out after him. All his force was aimed at surviving and get away. He found Djaq cornered with her back against a tree and he ran up to her as a sudden instinct hit him.

"Djaq!" he shouted "Djaq, I love you!"

"What?!"

"I said… ouff… I said I love you!!!"

"This is not the time for puppy love!" she responded, her voice coated with desperation as she swung the blunt side of her sword at an approaching guard. It would have been easier if they had simply allowed themselves to kill these men, as it was now most of them had a tendency to bounce back after a punch.

"What?!" Will shouted.

"I said this is not the time… oh damn it…" Djaq ran up to the young man; seeming they were about to die, and she might as well make him happy, she then put a wet but quite passionless kiss on his lips. Their teeth clenched and sent a shudder down Djaq's spine but his lips were soft and inviting.

"Oh" he said "Watch out!"

Djaq ducked as a sword was swung at her and met Will's axe. She spun around to put her back against his, and for a short moment of rather surprising serenity she could feel his heart beat against her shoulder. This more controlled position allowed them to get a better view over the fight, and with a sudden insight they realised that Guy must be experiencing much the same feeling as they were; that he was loosing this battle. It was chaos, utter chaos. They were in the periphery of the glen where the fight took place and Little John and Much made their way over to them, forming a sort of fighting circle.

"Now what!?" Much exclaimed.

"Now we get away!" Little John stated bluntly.

"But Robin…" Much panted "Where is Robin… and Ma… the Nightwatchman… Oh Lord!"

"… and Allan" Djaq added.

They fought off the guards as they made their way towards an escape route, moving further and further into the wild and thorny foliage.

"Allan left" Will said "Robin must have made his way up the hill… Not all the men are here, not Guy…"

"…We leave!" John yelled "We live! Now!"

They didn't have much choice, and now they used the advantage of knowing the forest and how to disappear into it. The sight of the clueless guards would have been amusing if the outlaws hadn't been so tired, sweaty and worried about the friends that they lost track of during the battle. When the guards disappeared a heavy silence lay as a blanket over the gang and Djaq and Will exchanged a quite uneasy look as they recalled the strange kiss.

"Well we're still alive" Will pointed out.

"Yes…" Djaq said "I didn't expect that"

"About…"

"… better not mention it. It was a heat of the battle thing"

"Right. What do we do now?"

Djaq shrugged and turned to Little John "Go back to the camp? Not much else we can do"

"We go back to the camp" John agreed with only a small shred of doubt in his dark voice.

---

Sir Guy saw the fight from his horse, watched how it got out of hand, and Robin seemed to be swinging his sword almost recklessly. It was as if he was hoping it might hit someone but cared more about making his way up the slope where the Nightwatchman still fought the archers. In truth, archers weren't particularly good at close combat, but there were two of them and she was but a woman. She hadn't appeared to be a particularly skilled fighter at their last meeting, and it puzzled Guy to realise how she had improved. Her moves were swift and skilled, and furthermore she hardly used the short sword in her hand.

"Unit two up the slope!" Guy yelled in order to get some kind of control over the fight. It was obvious that Robin Hood had his entire attention turned to the masked figure and now a group of five soldiers swiftly dashed up to aid the archers. Yet, as swift dashing goes, it was rather clumsy and hindered by the heavy chain mail, and Robin quickly threw one of them off balance, forcing the guard to fall and bring two others with him. Buying time, Guy thought, as the outlaw continued to make use of his better balance and lighter gear, violently protecting this strange Katie-girl in her green watchman costume… It stuck Sir Guy that it made very little sense that she wore the mask still; she had already been revealed to the world, convicted and no doubt outlawed even if it wasn't formal yet.

He made his way up to get a better view of the fight. Her grace amazed him, the strength in her punches, the controlled movements. She knew what she was doing.

"Nightwatchman!" he yelled "Why the mask still? Are you afraid that the world might see your ugly face? Vanity, yet another sin to condemn you"

She didn't answer, seemed almost oblivious to his presence now that Robin was there. The outlaw was outnumbered and found it increasingly difficult to fight of the guards. He motioned at the watchman to run, leave him to sacrifice himself, and Guy cringed by this heroic act. The masked figure did nothing to obey him- instead she stood almost awkward and watched, unwilling to interfere but unable to leave. She had little practise in this kind of fighting, didn't know how a battle was fought when there were other people to cooperate with.

"Run!" Robin shouted "Break combat, run, I order you run!"

She shook her head violently and Guy saw how the outlaw leader's face became painted in despair. It was odd how he cared for this woman, did almost anything to save her and was more worried about her life than his own. But perhaps that was Robin Hood for you, someone who always played the hero card, even if it meant dying in the process.

Then something changed. Robin was struck of balance and he lay defenceless against the guard who now started to swing his sword at him. There was a moment of perfect bliss for Sir Guy as he watched the approaching death of Robin Hood, a tingling sensation as the sun reflected in the blade that would soon be coated in his archenemy's scarlet blood. Then he realised that a scream echoed through the scene, a woman's shrill voice thrown out in naked despair. He had hardly ever heard the watchman make a sound, not even a muffled moan when he stabbed her, but now she screamed in terror and dashed into the fight with her short sword raised. It was plunged into the guard's chest and he fell down in the same moment that Robin Hood scrambled to his feet and started to fight of the remaining men. There were only two of them and the incident seemed to have given the outlaw renewed strength, throwing the guards down the slope once again.

This is when Guy realised that something was terrible wrong with the picture that displayed before him. It wasn't only the way this watchman fought, or screamed, not the way she used the sword to save Robin Hood in a fit of panic. She behaved so strange, so much out of character that it became painfully clear to Guy that this was not Katie Butcher at all. She fell down on her knees by the dead guard and pushed her hand at the wound, checked his vital signs and trembled as a rodent with the stained sword by her side. Then Robin bent down, put an arm gingerly around her to give her support and lift her up.

"Leave it" he said in a voice that was soft and filled with tender concern. There was such a natural intimacy in the scene, a picture of hidden love, and they made their way from the battleground without Robin's usual smug grin.

As Sir Guy watched them it became crystal clear what he was watching. She is my punishment, he thought as he saw the couple before him and knew with perfect clarity that Marian hid behind that mask. It didn't really come as a shock to him, somehow he had known all along that Katie was an unlikely candidate for the Watchman-title, but Marian's betrayal still hurt. It would always hurt and he would have to live with that. If he killed Robin Hood now, not that he held much hope that his men would catch up with them but just assuming that they did, then he would have to kill Marian as well or leave her over to the sheriff. He didn't like those choices, and with a deep sigh he called his men back.

"Let them run" he said and wearily rubbed his temples "We will get him next time"

---

Vix Butcher wasn't foolish enough to stay in Locksley. She had gotten her hands on a simple farmers cart and covered the silver with hey, taking off for London without thinking or allowing herself to feel. The roads were bumpy and it was a lonely journey, but she spurred the horses on through the approaching evening dusk. Reality struck down on her when she came to a forest lake and she realised with a pang of intense pain that she and Katie had stopped here on their way to Nottingham. How far away it seemed now! This lake belonged to another lifetime- a historical remnant from an age when a sort of strange sense of security always prevailed even though they were going to an entirely new place. This time Vix was going home, back to a royal court that she knew inside and out, but she didn't feel safe. Instead she felt completely alone when she parked the cart hidden behind a shrubbery and kneeled down by the lake to watch her reflection in the water. This was who she was. Vera Butcher, the abused child who cursed her own beauty. Who became Vix and learned how to use her looks and charms to her advantage. Who rose from the gutter to the royal court. Who stole and lied and excelled in everything that was sinful. Who murdered her own sister.

As she sat there the tears finally started to fall. Not the silent, beautiful tears that she sometimes exploited to get sympathy. This was ugly, ugly grief; the kind that distorts a beautiful face to red wrinkles and tears through a body like a raging autumn storm. She was shaking in spastic sobs, rocking her body back and forth while her face became wet with the salt water of sorrow.

This is how Allan-a-Dale caught up with her. He heard her convulsive, complaining cries before he saw her small and pitiful by the lake. Grief didn't suit her, she was ugly and the pink colour of her skin wasn't complemented by the blue dress. No did her hair look like flaming curls, rather they seemed vulgar and too flamboyant in this grey setting. When she saw Allan she turned her face up to him and bit down on her lip to stop the weeping long enough to talk.

"Allan…" she said with a voice that broke off and got ragged "Allan… this is… It was not going to happen like this!"

"No I figured as much" he sneered. "If I didn't love Katie so much this would almost amuse me mind you, the irony of it all. At last you fall in your own traps…"

He had been chasing her for hours, talking to people that remembered her from the roads and following the ways he knew would lead to London. He would have followed her all the way there if he had to, anything to get revenge. But now the furious uncontrollable rage had given way to disgust and he watched the pitiful figure that sat in tears after having killed the one thing she loved in this world.

"Will you kill me now?" she said and raised an sarcastic eyebrow in the flushed face.

Allan looked down at her and suddenly realised that murdering this woman wouldn't help him heal, simply give him new demons to haunt him through the rest of his life. "No" he scoffed "You will live with this" Then he turned his back on her and heard the crying start anew behind his back.

Pitiful and ugly, he had never expected to find her like that. He didn't give any thought to the money that were hidden just a couple of feet away- didn't care about the lost treasure that Vix would take to Nottingham and present to the prince with a beaming smile that was just a little bit more hollow than yesterday. He dragged his sword behind him- let his body with the shallow wound from the arrow ache and the tears to flow as he made his way back to the camp where Katie's cold corpse waited for him. Revenge was overrated. It didn't numb grief of, only made it bitter and tainted. He had little hope that his friends had made it out from the fight alive, and he suddenly realised what a huge betrayal he had committed by leaving them like that. Robin, who had made Allan-a-Dale a better man, Marian, who fought for the poor long before this group of boys grew a social conscience, Little John and Much, such unlikely friends and allies… Then he thought about Will, his best friend, and Djaq, whom he felt such a strange connection too, and he would have done anything to turn back the clock and change the tide that swept them all away from him. But still, they had made it out of impossible situations before, and as he moved forward hope slowly stirred in his chest. Perhaps he wouldn't come home to an empty camp after all.

---

As Allan thought these thoughts and walked the long road back to the camp, the other outlaws had arrived already and found the dead Katie Butcher exactly as they left her. The sight of the pale body made them feel rather uneasy so they wrapped it up and shuffled it away where the smell of the decaying corpse wouldn't destroy their sleep. Much was preparing a soup with turnips and tough meet, and the rest of the gang sat shattered in the leaves. Will and Djaq worried about Allan, but spoke with each other much like the world was right again- it was as if not thinking about it made it less real. Robin came up to Much with a bowl, leaving Marian to sit quiet and absent by the tree where he had silently been stroking her rather detached figure.

"How is she?" Much said and looked over to the noblewoman.

"She is tired" Robin responded with a worried glance.

"Well… she doesn't sleep" Much pointed out and pored up soup in the bowl "Where are the spoons… ah there… I mean, she should be sleeping if she is just tired"

Robin chewed on his lip and frowned slightly at the manservant who pointed out the obvious. Finally he said "Do you remember the first time you killed a man?"

Much got a pined look in his face. That was not something he enjoyed to think about, let alone talk about. The memory seemed cursed.

"Marian went through that today" Robin continued "A guard"

"Ah" Much said, suddenly feeling lost for words. "Well… She better have some soup then, Master"

Robin nodded melancholically and carried the bowl of steaming food over to his love. It was a sad scene to watch, Robin trying so desperately to reach Marian and get her to eat some soup, and Marian who just seemed completely unmoved and hardly met his eyes. Finally Robin gave up, and he simply held her in his arms while the food went cold by their side, caressing her gently until they both dozed off from pure exhaustion.

As time went by Allan made his way to the camp and was genuinely surprised to find all his friends in good health. He looked relieved but embarrassed, but no one accused him of anything. Djaq started to care for the arrow wound in his shoulder and the camp woke up to their low mumbling conversation.

"Did you do it?" Djaq said, referring to the revenge he has set out to get.

"I let her run" he responded in a hushed voice "Revenge is about peace of mind, right, and she couldn't give me that"

Djaq nodded "We will take Katie to Knittle tomorrow, we decided. Try to get her a burial on sacred ground. Might take some persuading the abbot but he is a good man. Allan…"

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you're back" she smiled "We are all glad that you are back"

---

It did indeed take some persuading to convince Abbot Thomas that he should bury Katie Butcher on the sanctified grounds of the Knittle Monastery of The Holy Ghost.

"Well, she was… a murderer" the abbot sighed as they met with him in the temporary living quarters that had been set up for the friars "Burying her on sacred ground is slightly against the protocol"

"What do you mean a murderer?" Will inquired, wondering how the abbot could know about Katie's crimes.

"A guard was killed at her capture my son" abbot Thomas said "It was a surprise to me… I hadn't expected the Nightwatchman to be that brutal. I must admit the recent events have disillusioned me about this well-doer"

"She killed a guard…" Marian said mostly to herself "First she mimics me then I mimic her, interesting twist of fate…"

Robin gave Marian a worried glance and put a hand on her back to give her some comfort, but she acted as if he wasn't there. It seemed to distract him from the conversation and he frowned while he studied the distant expression in Marian's face.

"What do you mean my child?" abbot Thomas said with a puzzled look.

"She doesn't mean anything, she's in shock" Will interposed "Listen Father, there is not a sin that Katie Butcher can't be accused of. She has killed, robbed, sold her body… and given it willingly... She might not be good by the book but she was good at her heart. Would we ask this of you if we didn't honestly believe that?"

The abbot sighed and seemed bothered. The Nightwatchman was the reason to this mess, she had refused to come clean when the brother's were imprisoned and Lady Marian had taken the fall instead. He had been uncertain as to weather he should even obey the piece of linen cloth in the garden the last time, but he was a forgiving and understanding man who knew that the world often had many sides that remained hidden from his angle. Thus he had put out food and supplies, and this Katie Butcher had been arrested in Sir Guy's trap and murdered a guard in the process. He looked down on the pale corpse and thought the hair looked unnaturally red against the ashen skin. The Nightwatchman… Such a small, strange woman.

"Here is the smell of blood still" he mumbled "All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand…" The outlaws looked at him with confused expressions "Oh some Scottish noble said that I think" he explained "All blood and gore up there. Very well, we can bury Katie Butcher on the monastery's sacred ground, and prey the good Lord has mercy on her soul"

When the outlaws left the room, taking the body away to be prepared, only Marian remained and Robin who watched her worriedly. She was studying her hands and once again it struck Robin that the man she killed in the forest must have been her first.

"Marian, how are you?" he said.

"I'm fine" came her absentminded answer "It was that smell of blood thing"

"Don't worry my love" Robin smiled in a futile attempt to cheer her up, and gave his betrothed a tender kiss "You smell of nothing but lavender"

---

Evening fell and Katie Butcher was buried under the cloak of darkness. She would have an unmarked grave but at least the location was better than a convicted villain could ever hope for. Abbot Thomas' Latin sounded eerie in the chilly night and now and then a trembling sob broke through from one of the observers. Finally the frugal ceremony was finished and they lingered for a while as the grave was filled.

"Well" Allan said "That's it then"

"I'm sorry Allan" Djaq put a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah well…" he said with a faint smile "What can you do… Women… More trouble than they're worth… really…"

Marian reached into her cloak and pulled out something, held it in her hand for a while and then quickly discarded it into the grave.

"What was that?" Robin asked and took his eyes from Djaq and Will who stood on Allan's sides as a comforting shelter. The outlaws seemed to have buried the hatched, finally, but it felt so cruel that it would take so much pain to restore the friendship.

"The mask" Marian said and met Robin's eyes for a moment "The Nightwatchman is buried today…" she bit her lip and avoided his closeness, withdrew from her lover's arms and the eyes that wanted so desperately to understand her "I need to get home now, my father"

"Please stay with me, just one more night"

"It is cold in the forest I cannot… My father will be happy to see me and I have chores to attend to"

Robin watched her for a while, took in her beauty in the moonlight and his heart ached to see the deep sadness in her absentminded gaze. This would pass, he thought as they made their way from this cursed monastery. It would all have to pass eventually.


	17. The end and beyond

**This is the very last chapter of this fic.**

**I hope you have enjoyed it. :-)**

**Thank ya all for reading, and an even bigger hug to those who has taken the time to comment, it is much appreciated.**

**I'll probably start uploading an Allan/Djaq fic set during S2 after this. If you don't mind the pairing give the fic a chance. But as always, don't like - don't read. ;) **

**Lots of Love /Trix**

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Chapter 17: The end and beyond

This was London; a grey city, crowded and chaotic. It was the kind of jungle that suited a woman like Vix Butcher, a place to feed of the ashes of less well-adapted men that fell and burned where they stood and lived. You could get lost in a place like this, it was easy to disappear and reappear much at your own liking. London was an art form that Vix mastered, and the court was the crown jewel in this metropolitan melting pot. This city had all the extremes. Extreme politics, extreme decadence, extreme chastity, extreme religion, extreme profanity; London had it all. The best and the worst of England were here, it made the countryside seem bleak and dull, and Vix had always loved the grey city before. Now she stood in the middle of Prince John's chamber in her very best and most colourful clothes, and wondered absently why the city didn't excite her as it used to. Not even the court with its intrigues felt particularly fun, and on top of that the presence of the prince himself, although always somewhat interesting, failed to cheer her up.

"So" Prince John said in his somewhat nasal voice "Pippin Vaysey, the sheriff of Nottingham. I have my silver finally, credits to you my dear, but can this man really be trusted?"

Vix gave the regent a blistering smile "Your highness, men like Sheriff Vaysey were held on a rather tight leash when your brother was at this throne. Now he is allowed to roam free - to rise above his birth given place even. He is a greedy man; you can trust him to support the one that works for his interests. And that is beyond any doubts you"

"Very well, I like the sound of that. As long as his interests and my interest don't collide I will refrain myself from any throat-chopping as such"

"The axe would probably miss him anyway- he is very short… I do think I stand taller than him, and by your Highness' side he must be a mere gnome"

The prince chuckled and gave Vix a delighted smile. "Still, I will have to make sure he receives a small… reprimand for being late with my taxes" he continued "Symbolic of course but it has to sting just a little- make him remember who is in charge so to speak... Now, what about the local nobles? Are they to be trusted?"

"They are subdued Your Highness. Whatever rebellious streaks there may have been have been cleansed"

"Really? The old sheriff even, Sir Edward?" the prince snorted and raised a sarcastic eye brow. He was no fool and knew full well that this woman before him was immensely useful but hardly trustworthy.

"Sir Edward is old, as you say" Vix smiled.

"And his daughter? What about the alluring Lady Marian Fitzwater? I heard Sheriff Vaysey found it necessary to have her punished on two separate occasions"

Vix stopped for a while - halted just a second to collect her thoughts and make a decision. This was the most powerful man in England and she would be an idiot to lie to him. Still, when it came down to it she had to do this- had to step out of her own skin and behave as someone with half a heart would. For peace of mind and for Katie, she thought, this must be done for Katie.

"Lady Marian is a sweet girl. Naïve" she answered in an untruth that sounded perfectly believable when it fell from such a masterly liar "She enjoys her embroidery"

"Lady Marian enjoys her embroidery? My dear, you see a little bird told me that she punched Sir Guy and left him by the altar, running off into the forest with an outlaw. She did all that and still had time for her embroidery? I'm impressed"

"Forgive me Your Highness, but the court gossip also states that the lord of Cullham enjoys the company of his hound more than that of his wife. You might be a bit careful not to listen to closely to this little bird of yours"

At this bold statement Prince John gave out a roaring laughter that left him breathless and caused his eyes to water helplessly. Vix smiled to herself- she may have been away from London for quite some time but she still knew witch buttons to push.

"My love, this is what I treasure about you!" the prince finally exclaimed "You do have a way of putting things into perspective!"

---

Considering that all the money had been lost and Katie had ended up six feet under ground, the general feeling in the outlaw's camp was still rather perky and up-beat. This was mainly due to the fact that Djaq and Will did their best to cheer Allan up and the fact that Much's ability to invest all his emotions into the status quo never failed. As soon as Marian was saved and the Butcher sisters influence on the gang had been passed into history the former manservant set out to restore order.

"Well, we need to clean up here" Much stated when he turned around to let his eyes graze the camp witch still lay in shatters from the last days' events. The remnants of the feast were apparent wherever he looked. There were mugs filled with drops of deep red wine witch attracted ants and other insects, cooking gear had somehow made its way to the sleeping areas, swords and arrows took up room by the fireplace and clothes were thrown altogether too close to the place usually referred to as the 'bathroom' by Much (although it had no walls- thus weren't actually a bath_room_- and had no bath- thus was certainly no _bath_room as such). Much was rather picky about keeping things in the right place and nothing was even close to where it should be now. He gave out a resigned sigh "We really don't have to live in filth just because we are outlaws you know"

Will turned to Allan with a look that almost pleaded him to chastise Much, and Allan forced himself not to give the young man a whack on the back of his head. Will and Djaq had treated him like a child that needed to be encouraged ever since Katie's death, and if he pleased them they seemed to cheer inwards followed by more of that suffocating sympathy. He hated it.

"You're right Much" he said instead just to annoy his self-appointed babysitters "We should give the camp a nice sweep with the broom"

"Allan you don't have to bother about that now" Djaq interposed with a light smile. "Perhaps you want to rest? You must be tired"

"I'm going hunting though" Will added "Perhaps you want to come Allan?"

Christ, couldn't they just get lost!?

"Oh will you two love birds just get it over it already!" Allan exclaimed "I'm not being funny but you're driving me insane. And what more, I don't see the two of you getting anywhere in this mating game you two have been playing at all summer" That should distract them.

"What! We're not, I'm not…" Will said with a look of pure horror.

"Yeah, yeah, you're not… she's not… we're not… I'm not being funny but those looks you share could be spotted by a blind man… Listen if you want to walk around in denial then you do that, but don't come running to me when you realise you have wasted your lives on fear"

"Fear!" Djaq exclaimed with a rather sarcastic smile "I am _not _scared Allan"

"Right darling, if you say so, but you let it all go to waste all the same. I mean, do you even know what the mortality rate is among outlaws?"

"… No…"

"Well… No… Not me neither alright, but I bet it is bloody high. If you get what I'm getting at"

"You know I'm not sure I like this new 'Allan the Mentor'-figure" Will said with ears that were blushing flaming red "What happened to the unreliable rogue we all learned to love and cherish… and get used to?"

"We all need to move on from time to time, mate" Allan responded "I'm reborn, and I'm telling you, I won't see you waste your lives as I wasted mine"

He watched the two outlaws- the boy and the Saracen woman- and smiled slightly when he realised how embarrassed he'd made them both. He loved these people dearly but they were truly idiots at times… Djaq had been in agony for weeks, growing a thick armour of jealousy and pain that tore up wounds that she had sewn up long ago, and when he finally had what she had been yearning for within reach then she choose to ignore it? 'Take what you can' had always seemed to be a rather good life ideology for Allan-a-Dale, and even if he was more thoughtful these days actually declining something you wanted when it was offered to you freely seemed ridiculous to say the least. Will's puppy-eyed gazes left little doubt as to his feelings, so why did they insist on complicating things?! They kept avoiding the subject and fussed over Allan's mental state instead, and he wasn't sure that he liked to be considered a 'suitable diversion'.

"Listen… Just take a leap for once. Falling doesn't hurt until you hit the ground anyway" he sighed and turned to the plate of food that Much had prepared for him. But when you do hit the ground, it hurts like hell, he thought to himself. So he lost his love, but at least his past was cleansed. There were no red-headed ghosts lurking in the shadows, no regrets and guilt, simply this dull, aching grief that wouldn't yield. He would like to see his friends happy, and perhaps it was just sorrow that had made him sentimental but during this day he had felt an urge to just tie the stubborn pair to a tree over night and force them to talk things through. For every time they did a mutual effort to cheer him up and be supportive he wanted to shout at them that it was not _he_ who needed to be untangled, it was_ they_. He knew where he was, it was a grey and lonely place but he would come out of it eventually, take it step by step until the memories didn't hurt as much. The grief would fade and give room for a longing and the simple pleasure of having loved at least once, even if it was lost to the shadows of history. It felt nice to have more good memories, the kind that made you smile and not feel shamed of the man you were, or used to be. His and Katie's story had found its closure and in time he would find comfort in that. In time. Right now all he had to do was endure, and he might as well use this pitiful state of grief by being a nuisance while riding it out...

---

Sir Guy had never seen the sheriff of Nottingham more furious than he was that day the messenger from Prince John came to the castle. Oh he had been all soft words and smirks to begin with alright, careful not to show any resentment against the prince or anyone siding with him. And he had been scared as well, not that he would admit it, but Sir Guy could tell. The money had been lost after all… Guy had decided not to tell the sheriff anything about Vix's visit, or the failed fight that left him one soldier short again. After all, he would only get Vaysey's anger as the sheriff realised that he had let them all escape him; Vix Butcher (with the money, he was sure of that), Robin Hood and his gang, the Nightwatchman even... So Gisbourne had kept all of this to himself, decided not to share anything, and thus the sheriff knew nothing about Vix's relation to the prince, or the fact that me money probably had made their way to the royal court in spite of the outlaws' break-in. He had expected this part to be a pleasant surprise when it came to the sheriff's knowledge.

It had, obviously, been a pleasant (and most of all it had been a rather surprising) surprise for Vaysey to find out from the messenger that the prince thanked him for the money. But then there was the other part of the message. Gisbourne couldn't stop himself from smiling when he remembered that second part- the punishment that had been laid upon Vaysey. Prince John had made an effort to really demonstrate his superiority and power over his 'loyal subject' Pippin Vaysey, and it made the sheriff furious…

Sir Guy reached what was left of Knittle Monastery and stood before Abbot Thomas with a grin on his face from these musings.

"My Son" the abbot said with a friendly voice that still seemed rather guarded in Guy's presence "What brings you here? Do you seek salvation or advice?"

"I seek no such thing" Guy scoffed "If I did I certainly wouldn't come looking for it here. No, I come with news… they should please you I think"

"Really?" Abbot Thomas said and his face got an expression of wary confusion. He was a wise man and didn't trust Sir Guy, even though his pious ways forced him to greet any man as an equal in the eyes of the Lord.

"Come" Gisbourne motioned the abbot to follow him "Let us walk"

They made their way through the pitiful cloister garden and Guy laughed a little at the sight of the chopped-down fruit trees. By their side were the remnants of the monastery's main building- a pile of ashes, burnt wood and scorched stones that formed a sad skeleton of the once so steady building, and Guy thought that it was a rather pleasing setting for a walk and some chit-chatting. It suited him, that this cursed place had been devoured by fire as if the Devil himself had pulled it down into his eternal flames.

"Hell hath no fury as a scorned God it seems" Guy said and smiled a little at the confusion in the friar's face.

"Is that what you came to talk about?" the abbot responded with a frown "To mock us?"

"That would have been a reason as good as any, but sadly no. I have come to talk about compassion"

"Is that so?"

"Yes" Guy continued "The sheriff's compassion in fact. He had decided to rebuild this monastery with his own money"

Abbot Thomas stopped abruptly as these words, the shock in his face unmistakeable. It was a logical feeling, anyone who knew the sheriff even a little would find the notion of him showing compassion or wasting his money on religion absurd. It struck the abbot that the man might be dying and therefore decided to seek God- it had been known to happen to even the worst of men. Last-minute redemption wasn't anything Abbot Thomas supported himself, but the god book said nothing specifically against it. Thus he decided to play along.

"And what does he want in exchange for that?" he said "His eternal soul will be prayed for of course, and I gather he will expect us to have a final resting place for him on our sacred grounds? A family crypt perhaps?"

Sir Guy had to bite down not to laugh out loud at this. _A family crypt_? What family?! This was Pippin Vaysey, not the most likely family man, and certainly not one who would request people to pray for him. No his reasons were more profane than that- he had simply been ordered to rebuild the castle by his superior. That was Prince John's way to show his power over the sheriff- to force him to rebuild the monastery with Vaysey's own personal resources.

"The sheriff is a modest man" Sir Guy said and wondered why he made fun of the sheriff like this. It must be Vix Butcher's legacy- the red headed woman had somehow awoken Gisbourne's sense of humour. How odd! "He asks only to appoint the next abbot of the monastery"

There was a bitter look in Abbot Thomas' face as he heard this. That made sense- the sheriff rebuilt the monastery and thus considered it his own. It was sad but there were nothing an aging abbot could do about it.

"Of course" he sighed "We are indeed blessed to be offered his help and will not decline"

By now they had reached the old well and Guy stopped, looking at the abbot with a sudden feeling of resentment. This man had no doubt known all along that Marian was the Nightwatchman, yet he had decided not to tell him about it… After all, it didn't seem plausible that he didn't know about it when he had been Marian's tutor once upon a time. For some reason the notion of a lying treacherous abbot was more that Gisbourne could handle and he felt the fury building up inside him. This story hadn't ended well for him- instead of catching the Nightwatchman he'd simply realised things that made it impossible for him to ever catch that thug. His fanatic chase after a masked villain had let him even more bitter and disillusioned about the woman that he loved and hated with such passion. Now this man of the cloth stood before him and claimed to be all pious and holy, even though he broke one of the Ten Commandments with such ease: _Thou shall not lie_.

Guy grinded his teeth and raised a sarcastic eye brow at the abbot.

"Tell me" he said "The Nightwatchman, who is it?"

The abbot looked genuinely surprised and Guy felt another rush of anger. Lies were no novelty to this man when he did it with such skill, he thought. "I thought you caught her" Abbot Thomas said "Young Katie Butcher, bless her soul"

"Wrong answer" Guy hissed and restrained himself as much as he could. He took a firm grip around the abbot's shoulders and gave him a steady stare "Try again…"

"It is not her?" the abbot was shaking now, seemed uncomfortable to say the least "Please, you are one of God's lambs, do not hurt me My Son I beg you! I do not know of these things! It was simply a masked well-doer to me, he had no face!"

"_He_ had no face?" Sir Guy roared "A man of the cloth… claiming to stand close to God and you lie to me?! That is a mistake!"

He tightened the grip he had around the friar's shoulders and with a sudden impulse he plunged the old man down into the deep, dark well without letting go of his eyes. There was shock, then despair and panic, and finally something that looked like a melancholic sadness in the old man's features. The sharp yell that escaped him echoed of the walls in the well and then broke off abruptly as he hit the water surface. There was a loud splash followed by silence- apparently the aging abbot didn't even have time to struggle before the cold water devoured him- and Guy wondered absently if perhaps he had hit his head against something. He took a step forward to look down into the well but saw nothing but darkness. There was an immediate lightness in Gisbourne's heart, that feeling of thrill that he always got when he killed someone without guilt. This man had deserved it- he would burn in hell for his lies.

"Forgive me father…" he said and formed a mock cross over his shoulders and chest before he walked away "…for I have sinned"

---

The world was wrong. Any world where a woman like Vix Butcher couldn't find peace of mind through money and power was wrong. In fact, a world where she didn't find comfort in comfort and where even her greatest victory felt bitter was not only wrong- it was upside down. Prince John had been standing before her earlier that day and declared her a noble, by name if not by blood, and laid the riches before her like the three wise men laid their gifts before baby Jesus. The impossible task of rising from the gutter to the finest halls, from rags to jewels, had been accomplished by the once so infamous Roxdale Vixen. 'Game set and match, cruel faith, I have prevailed!' she thought as she crawled down beneath the silk sheets of the royal castle, for the first time in a guest room that was hers and only hers. No man had to sneak her in- or parade her in for that matter. Vix had been considered something of a fancy accessory in the court, since she only went with the crème de la crème of the nobility, and the red headed woman was a far better power display than any jewel.

But peace of mind wouldn't come and sleep eluded her night after night. Instead she twisted and turned between the expensive sheets and faced every day a little edgier than the one before. Jaded, that is how she felt, bitter and worn out. She sneered and snapped at the men who came to offer her their hand in marriage (they all knew that asking for _her_ hand would be perilous to say the least), and she took their gifts without pleasure or gratitude.

As the evenings grew longer she gave up the efforts to get her rest and began to wander the streets at night, a colourful shadow whose swishing silk dresses made her seem like an exotic butterfly in this grey setting. The streets were the same as always, even though the faces may be different the characters were still the same; the ladies of the night with their inviting gestures, the children who begged with pleading hungry eyes and the men who roamed the streets after a suitable distraction. She had been one of those cheep sleepers, yet they were nothing like her. She had been the best, excelled in this as in everything else she had done in her life, and her swaying hips and swift steps were the movements of a legend restlessly seeking after her lost roots.

Finally on one of these nights Vix made a decision, realising that she could not simply linger here. She needed peace of mind, and if it couldn't be found in money or power then perhaps she would have to seek it in blood. Her sister's death needed to be revenged. This had all started with that Brother Alistair and thus he would have to die- a prolonged, terrible death, torture beyond imagination, and she would enjoy it. Perhaps it would stay at that- perhaps it would be enough, and if not… Well, time would tell… It would take some effort to find the fallen brother, he had escaped to God knows where, but someone as ugly as that couldn't hide easily. She would chase him down like a rabbit, hunt him until his feet ached and he gasped for air in every painful breath, then lure him into trusting her and stab him in the back just for the fun of it. She would be his nemesis.

Even though Vix Butcher had indeed loved this city once, and most of all loved the royal court with all its wonderful possibilities, that time was long gone. London was tainted, as any place she had been to with Katie was tainted now, and if she ever returned from this vendetta then she would leave the country and start anew somewhere else. France perhaps, or why not the wonderful decadence of Venice? Yet she had a feeling that this peace of mind that she craved so badly would elude her, and she was doomed to live the rest of her life chasing after it with a dagger as her only companion. The amazing rise to glory that was her life had been turned into a vendetta as futile as Sisyphus' never-ending labour with the stone, and she had ultimately no one else to blame it on than herself.

As Vix started her journey into the great unknown territory that vengeance is for a woman who never cared for anything, she suddenly recalled a song the sisters used to sing in the taverns all those years ago. It struck her that it was a lamentation and she forced the words from the shadows of history because she grew tired of the suffocating silence now that there was no one to talk to. He deep voice was clear and soft and people turned their heads when she passed, stopped for a while and listened to the simple words,

_My dear there is a single tear,_

_A single tear will fall for you_

_But it will weigh more than the moon_

_And no sky can be as blue_

_It will be harder than a stone_

_And feel far wetter that the sea_

_For everything I lost in you_

_Falls one single tear from me_

---

Robin never let killing become a habit. He always felt the lives he quenched, wouldn't let himself forget their humanity. Most of the time you didn't hold any grudge to the men you killed in war, they were simply players for a different team, and Robin refused to see them as faceless enemies. But in spite of this the first one was still special, still the one that hurt the most. The first time you killed was a border you passed, a Rubicon to be crossed. You were one man before and another one after; a different kind of human- a killer- one that took life.

He knew men that got a taste for blood, liked the feeling of power it gave you, others that was buried by their own guilt. They felt unable to kill and be human, so they made themselves less human to survive. Yes, the first kill was indeed a shock to anyone. Yet it would be worse for Marian- she was so empathetic, held lives so highly, felt them and insisted on understanding even the men she despised. Now Robin stood in her room and watched her sitting on the bed with her eyes firmly at the floor. She was in pain and shut him out.

"Marian!" Robin exclaimed, frustrated and terrified about being unable to reach his love in her guilty prison. "I will not love you less for doing something _once_ that I have done more times than I can count!" He put his hands in his sides and sighed in a gesture that looked resigned yet desperately pleading. "If anything I love you more for feeling it like this…"

She remained silent with her head turned away, avoiding to look at him. He flattered her, reached out, begged her to come to him but she simply backed off at every frantic advance he attempted.

"Marian" he said "Marian listen to me. Listen!"

"I do listen!" she snapped "You give me little choice"

"No, you hear, but you do not listen. That man… he was a casualty of this war… Marian, guilt like this can kill you, destroy you, you have to forgive yourself!"

"But how can I do that?! I killed that man Robin,_ I _killed him. I know him… his name is Garth… he is… not the most pleasant of men but he is a man. He was a man, a human. And what about the other casualties! I took the first step Robin, the abbot… Poor old Thomas!!!"

Robin gave out a frustrated little laughter "Will you take on every death in this sordid story?! If you are this unforgiving towards yourself then so help me God may you never find out what I did in the Holy Land…"

"That is different!"

"Yes! That is worse! Much, much worse"

"I'm sorry Robin" Marian said, subdued now, less angry but still inaccessible- she still shut him out "I didn't wish to reopen those wounds"

"Trust me- they are nothing to the brand new wounds you give me when you do this to yourself"

"I'm… I know it is irrational" she said in a voice that was slightly strangled and trembling "But I cannot help how I feel. I cannot rationalise away my emotions. I know I should not feel like this yet this is how I feel…"

"It was easy" Robin suddenly interrupted her as he decided to try a new approach.

"What?"

"Killing that man was easy! And that scares you. It scares you that your principles and moral could be so easily overlooked, that a life can be taken with such ease. You are afraid because you don't know who you are anymore. And now you push me away because you do not know how to be with me when you don't even know who you are"

She bit her lip and looked up at him, puzzled and a little amazed. "Yes" she said "I do not know who Marian is anymore"

"But I know" Robin insisted, forcing himself into her private space "I know who you are. And I have been where you are now… Don't you think I have been afraid? Don't you think I have felt lost at times? There were times… there have been times when I could swear that I was dead, a living corpse lost to this world. Yet here I am" He went up to her and gingerly put an arm around her shoulders, terrified that she would push him away. But instead she simply gave in to the touch and let her head dip down to his shoulder.

"It has been difficult months" she said.

"Yes. For me too" In a moment Robin felt overwhelmed by the weight of the time that had passed since Marian's imprisonment. He needed her to comfort him, needed her to tell him that it was fine, that this world was right again. She was his saviour, his lifeline when he almost lost himself, his redemption and salvation. Even though he hated himself for this he felt slightly angry with her for not being the steady rock he needed her to be, he felt impatient with her guilt and inaccessibility.

"For us both" she said, and he realised that she cried soft, rippling tears.

"Why are you crying Marian?"

"The abbot… The monastery… The guard… Katie Butcher… Allan... There are enough reasons to keep me crying for a lifetime I think" she responded "Allan and Katie, it could have been us"

She could feel him tense at her words and knew that he had been thinking that same thought. He pulled her closer into a tight embrace and nuzzled her hair in a way that seemed almost desperate. He was clinging to her, as if his arms could keep her safe from death, yet no one was ever safe from death.

"Don't say that…" he mumbled "You must never die"

"I will one day" she said "But not tonight…"

She pulled away a bit to get a better view over him and there was an unexpected electricity between them, triggered by the need of comfort as much as the barely restrained passion. Robin swallowed, trying not to be sucked into this and loose control, but the hair on his arms rose by the wave of emotions and gave him away. Marian gingerly stroked his scarred hand and then her thin fingers found their way under his sleeve making him inhale sharply.

"Marian…" he said in a rather half-hearted attempt to make her stop before he went up in flames, but it sounded more like a inappropriately pleased sigh. She smiled at him, a strangely demanding smile that took his breath away and he thought that she was very bad at restraining him when she gave him that look filled with need and want and craving.

Marian thought of a way to say everything she wanted to her lover, but found it impossible to voice the buzzing chaos in her head with words that wouldn't take up several lifetimes. Instead she simply looked at him and hoped that he could read her well enough to se how badly she needed comfort, something to sooth all this pain. If there was a way to drench it then it must be through him, his touch seemed like a cooling balm on burned skin, his smile subdued her anxiousness and made it manageable. She needed that. Needed him. Needed all of him. Needed all of Robin. She felt the hair on his arms rise and wondered absently if he was cold or just affected by her touch as she was by his proximity. Her breathing got ragged and suddenly it felt so pointless to play this cautious waiting game. They might not have a future so why not seize the day, every precious moment between them, instead of building them a cage of social conventions and decency? The realisation that she was ready to offer everything to him almost knocked her flat on her back, and she bit down on her lip to hard she could feel a metallic taste in her mouth. She withdrew from him a bit but it only made the tension between them more apparent. It was as if their bodies were connected by a million tiny wires and the bigger distance they put between each other the harder the wires tried to pull them together. He must feel it too because his face mimicked her own confusion over the change in the atmosphere. They were no strangers to sexual tension but this was different- this was _unbounded _in a way that felt completely new. No one tried to keep a distance, no one struggled against the force of the attraction, no one restrained or subdued the raw craving between them. No one said _stop_. Marian could feel her hands shake and wondered how she should answer to the unspoken question in his face. Finally she simply closed the distance between them and met his lips shallow kiss that seemed so much like an invitation that Robin almost lost control over his senses completely.

"Marian…" he said again in a husky voice that spoke one thing by its tone and another by its words "I should leave" it said out loud, but she could hear the words drown in a blaring _'I want you'_ . She smiled at him, decided to take the upper-hand now that she knew what _she_ wanted.

"Don't leave" she said "I want you to stay" Her body shook when she pushed it against his and every sense seemed heightened. He moaned and pulled back from her, tried to withdraw from this situation before it got out of hand, but she simply followed as if they were involved in a dance. _So determined_, he thought, _why… oh…_ There were only a thin layer of cloth between his hands and her waist and he could feel the heat emanating from her body and the sweet taste of her lips. It was intoxicating, impossible to think clearly, and those small hands of her were so swift and resolute in the way they grazed this chest and made their way up around his neck. His breathing was laboured and his body felt euphoric about this turn of events, and thus he almost hit himself hard for his next move, forced by that little voice in his head that wouldn't just let him do what he wanted. He took Marian's wrists in his and looked her deep in the eyes.

"Marian I can't do this to you" he said "It isn't right"

"The world isn't right Robin" she responded with a light shake of her head "This is what we want. I want. I do not think I'm willing to let you deprive me of it simply because you insist on being knightly. Let there be no more swords between us Robin… if this gives us solace then I think this safe haven might be our prerogative" Her voice was almost pleading as she tried to convince him, stating her case in her usual, resonating manner, but it was the words she said next that finally stripped him of the last of his resistance "I love you, be with me" she begged.

Robin shut his eyes and sighed a futile '_God help me'_ before he gave in to the hunger she woke in him. "I love you too" he said and let the tiny wires snap him back right into her warm, inviting embrace.

---

And so the story has been told, and we have nothing left to do but bid our farewell to the sovereigns of Sherwood Forest. The era of the Roxdale Vixen and her mysterious sister leaves us without the simple happy ending that we crave, because it was inspired by a cruel muse who refused to scribble down the 'happily ever after'. The good does not always win, and it is indeed difficult to tell sometimes if there even was a winner standing tall once the dire vortex stopped spinning. Yet we can take comfort in the fact that every life, even that of an outlaw, has its peaks and valleys and this final scene is not one set in a valley. Rather it is a chilly forest glen where a group of laughing outlaws has curled up around the sparkling fireplace, telling tales as the night falls ever so softly over the forest. Some of the trees still cling to the last of their leaves even though the first snow will fall within a week, and there is such a comfortable tenderness between these people. A dark-haired Saracen woman shares her blanket with a tall young man with broad shoulders and an expression of awe in his big eyes, as she moves closer until there is no space between them and she leans her head on his arm. They look tense, uncertain in this new closeness that is yet to be explored and evaluated, and the woman's head is filled with doubt. He is too young, she thinks, he is too British, too shy, too Christian for Goodness sake! But he is so warm, and his eyes are so kind, and he got such a welcoming disarming smile that makes her feel less lost in this strange world. So she cuddles closer and feels his heartbeat fasten and she loves the fact that she can have that effect on a man. The young man just sits in pure amazement over the way things have turned around, afraid to move in case he might wake up or break this wonderful spell. Her small soft body feels so intoxicating, and he wonders if she can feel his heartbeat because it pounds so fiercely in his chest as if it tries to escape the prison of his ribcage. He shuts his eyes and tries to make the world stop spinning, and while he sits there the sound of the wind in the foliage and the Saracen woman's even breaths makes him feel so pleasantly drowsy that he thinks he wants to stay like this forever.

Then there is the two men on the couple's left side that have played a somewhat smaller role in the story as it has been revealed for the readers. Still, any individual is a main charter in her own life and they must not be forgotten. A big man with dark curly hair sits and muses over the mysteries of youth, how they take everything in with such passion, and he wonders absently if life-wisdom dulls a man off or if he simply was born with a mellow personality. He is glad that things are calmer again and he talks with the man by his side about the coming winter. Making plans, since the former manservant is the only one who seems to give practical issues any real thought. The gang's leader appears to be more preoccupied with grand plans than the small things that living is made up of- as if shelter and food simply happens anyway. They need to eat well and find good places to sleep during the cold nights if they are to survive and the manservant seeks the big man's advice, since he has spent winters in the forest before. It is true- he has been an outlaw for years- but never quite this hunted. They talk things through and drinks of the flask with ale that is passed around amongst the friends.

The final man who sits in the circle is the one who talks loudest, demands space wherever he is, and now he tells tale after tale and they all listen with tender smiles. He speaks not of drunken memories this time, isn't quite as inappropriate as they are used to and doesn't spice the stories up as much as he would under normal circumstances. Instead it is an almost sentimental, placid reminiscence of times past that craves everyone's attention. Apart from the outlaws that sits curled up around the fireplace two figures stand a bit away from the gang and watches the scene in silence, listening to the stories and the rustling of the golden leaves. The man holds his arms around the woman and nuzzles her chocolate-coloured curls, and she leans back into his embrace with an almost inaudible sigh. The story-teller by the fireplace has just finished a tale about the time when he made his love laugh for the very first time by stealing a hen for her and tying a ribbon around its belly.

"You never bring _me_ any gifts" Marian says as the story ends and she gives Robin a small teasing smile.

"Oh I'm sorry my love…" the outlaws' leader responds with a mischievous smirk "Would you like a hen or would you prefer a co… ouch!!!"

Robin bens double as Marian's sharp elbow hits him in the stomach and she pulls away from him in pretended indignation.

"A rooster! I was going to say 'rooster'!" he moans.

"Rooster doesn't start with 'co' Robin" Marian laughs and strokes his arm gently.

"Well, it would have been a coy rooster" he insists.

Robin wraps his arms around Marian's waist again and gives her shoulder a kiss where he knows a V-shaped scar is hidden under the layers of cloth. The sensation makes her twitch and try to pull away from him.

"Does it hurt still?" he says and she shakes her head.

"It's a V" she responds bluntly "As in 'Vaysey'. He branded me… I can't believe I'm branded like cattle…"

"It's V as in 'Victory'" Robin insists "_We_ branded _him_"

"It's not a victory though, is it…" Marian sighs and her body is tense in Robin's arms "We didn't win. The monastery burned, Katie was killed… and Abbot Thomas… We lost the money and Allan lost his love. The only one who could possibly be pleased with this story is Prince John"

Robin is silent as he thinks about her words. She is here now, with him. Some of her innocence might be lost but she will live through this, guilt and bitterness won't steal her from the world. Allan will be fine as well, this grief won't destroy him as Marian's death might have destroyed Robin- he isn't emotionally fragile like that. Djaq and Will have their friendship back, or maybe even more than that, and the gang is still together, laughing and teasing with each other. They could have lost everything, all their efforts could have been in vain, their fight for England- or the people, or themselves- could have been permanently broken down. Yet here they are, ready to continue this struggle against the sheriff and his followers or allies.

"We may not have won" he finally says and pulls Marian closer, much closer, until his hug must feel almost suffocating and he releases her just a little bit "but at least we stopped _them_ from winning. At least we didn't lose it all"

The end of something is the beginning of something new, and they all hope, because they have to hope and hope is the last thing that leaves a man, that fate will be less cruel this time around…

_Fin_


End file.
